Behind the Smile
by An-Jelly-Ca
Summary: He sank into a chair facing the window and buried his head in his hands. He thought you weren't watching. But he was wrong. And once more he caused you to wonder what he was hiding behind that smile.On Sirius' home life. From the view of his friends.
1. Wonderings of a Werewolf

**A/N Drabble/ficlet thingy. This is like Remus' thoughts only with a third person observing and stating it as though talking to Remus.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own so don't sue me! **

You watch him carefully as you arrive at the platform. He's hiding something. As the end of the year approached he's become quieter withdrawing from his surroundings. He's not acting like himself. Sirius has never been quiet. But now he is. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye and are surprised to see that he has turned pale. You follow his eyes and discover what he's looking at. He's staring at his parents. You wonder why he isn't excited to be going home. James has been babbling excitedly about seeing his family again for weeks. And you find that you rather miss your parents as well. But Sirius never speaks of his family. He remains tightlipped whenever the subject of parents comes up. And James never presses him for information. He knows more then you do. Something is very wrong with your friend's home life. But there's nothing you can do. You watch helplessly as he mutters a goodbye to you and James. James rests a hand briefly on his friend's shoulder and gives him a reassuring look. "Don't worry, Padfoot, you'll be fine." You wonder what they do to him that makes James stare after your retreating figure with worry etched in his face. But you can't help Sirius if he won't come to you. He's your best friend. But you can't help him. He hides his pain with a laugh shrugging off any concern. You cornered him once; trying to get him to talk to you. But he tuned you out giving you his patented I-am-completly-fine-not-hiding-anything look. And you returned it with the look he and James have come to hate. The one that says I-Know-Your-Lying-and-I'm-going-to-find-out-what-your-hiding. He turned oddly pale and backed up a step looking frantically past your shoulder. James appeared and dragged you away from him. He sank into a chair facing the window and buried his head in his hands. He thought you weren't watching. But he was wrong. And once more he caused you to wonder what he was hiding behind that smile.

**A/N Review! I think this is all there will be…idk…do you want more? If I decide to contiue I think I might do one from all differnt people's viewpoints like James, Peter, Lily, maybe even the Professors perhaps Regulus we don't know enough about him...Review...let me know...**


	2. So Sirius Says

**A/N Hey, new chapter! lol. I did this one from Sirius' view, and the next will be Regulas and then Sirius on Regulas. Like this chapter is Sirius' thoughts on Remus. Well...kinda...idk...i can't explain it just read it and review it...lol.**

**Thanks to All Reviewers.**

**Disclaimer: Gli prometto che la I non possiede niente!**

You know he's watching you. And sometimes you think that it would be easier just to tell him. Tell him what happens in your house. You won't call it home. That dark decrypt place has never been your home. Hogwarts is your home, the Potter's is your home, but Number 12 Grimwauld Place has never been your home. You want to tell him this, just tell him. But you don't want him to worry. He's your best friend and he has enough to deal with. You think it's bad enough that you burden James with your problems without unloading them on Remus.

But they're your friends and they want to help you. You won't let them. You hate the sympathy. Hate the way people look at you and whisper. You don't want their pity. So you keep everything to yourself. James wouldn't know if he hadn't heard them screaming at you back when you were just five. Even then you struggled to keep everything hidden. But James has kept your secret he understands. It makes him mad but he's stayed silent anyway. Remus won't. He can't understand. James saw it; he gets it. Remus doesn't. Doesn't get the amount of power the Black name holds, doesn't understand that things would only get worse if you went to the Ministry. So you shut him out; refuse to say anything. You don't want to lie to him, he's your friend but you can't tell him the truth. You won't.

So you remain silent, hiding your pain behind a smile. You goof off and joke around whenever anyone gets to close. It's your means of distraction. Sure, you like to play pranks, but you wouldn't do it nearly as much if you didn't have to hide your feelings from everyone. You've always done this. When they sent you the Howler at the beginning of the year screaming about how you disgraced the family you smiled and shrugged before promptly turning around and hexing Snape's hair bubblegum pink.

Everyone forgot about the letter and that's exactly how you wanted it. Everyone except Remus and James. James was content to rant about how your parent's were evil. But Remus, Remus insisted that you should go to Dumbledore or the Ministry.

But you lied to him and said it was the first time they'd done that. But it wasn't. They'd called you a disgrace; a traitor since you were barely one and a half. You were never evil enough, Slytherin enough; good enough for them. They had sensed it ever since you were little. In your family common first words were 'Mudblood' or 'Pureblood' or 'Traitor' but you, you were different. You're first word was 'love' you had said I love you. And they knew it right then that you would never turn out the way they wanted. Sure, they still tried to turn you evil, but their efforts were for naught. So instead they resort to tormenting you, hitting you, abusing you. But you take it; you don't complain. And you won't.

You are terrified of appearing weak. But asking for help does not constitute weakness. But you don't see that; it's not something you can process. So, instead you mask your feelings with a smile and shrug off their concern. You won't accept help. You want it, and you need it, but you won't take it. And sometimes you're sorry you won't. But you've never changed your mind. Because making your days a little easier to get through is not worth the looks of pity they'll send you. At least to you.

Your friends think you're insane. Or James does anyway. If Remus knew he'd feel the same, but you won't tell him. The very thought of anyone knowing your secret shakes you to your core, so you lie and you smile. "Everything is fine." These three words are your mantra; at this point they hold little meaning. You've said them more times then you can count or want to know. But you continue to repeat them, they hold no meaning, but you say them with the desperate hope that Remus will believe you. That James won't finally reveal your secret. And so you live day after day with the weight of it pressing down on you. But you won't complain. It's better this way.

**A/N Review!**


	3. Reflections with Regulas

**A/N Thanks for the reviews, ppl! This chapter is Regulas.**

**Disclaimer: Alas, these characters are not mine.**

You watch him. You find his change in personality to be of interest. His friends don't really know him. Not like you do. He's your brother and you know what happens outside of the castle walls. You know he's lying to them. They know he's lying to them. But you know the truth. You're there. You live in that house with him and you see what happens.

He's your brother and you care about him, but you won't help him. You can't. He's a Gryffindor you're a Slytherin. The path your lives would take split the moment he put that hat on his head and ruined centuries of tradition in your family. He's brave. You know he is, and you admire him for it. He's your big brother and you've always looked up to him. But you won't follow him down the road he's headed. Sometimes you almost wish that you were like him that you too would speak up to your parents. Say what you're really thinking. But you don't. You won't because you know what happens; you see what they do to him. You see the pain he works so hard to hide from everyone. It makes your heart ache for him. But you can't save him from his fate.

He chose his path. You wonder for one fleeting moment if you would like to join him on that path. But then reality hits and you remember the screaming, the curses, and the abuse. It doesn't seem worth it. You asked him once. Asked him why he does this, why he can't just do what's asked of him. You'll never forget his reply. "Because, I won't sell my soul, Reg, I won't do it."

You didn't understand at first. The reply had seemed strange. No one was asking him to sell his soul. Or so you thought. But then you realized that asking him to conform to centuries of pureblood ideals; ideals that he opposed with his very being would be selling his soul. He wouldn't be Sirius. You wonder if perhaps you've sold your soul; given up the future you could've had; the one you secretly want.

But then you remember the present. You've never been one for living in the future. You've always lived in the now. And right now, you don't want to go through what he does whenever he's home. Right now giving up that future seems like a small price to pay to stay in your parents' good graces. In the future you may live to regret it. But for now you don't, for now you're vision is muddled by fear. You're terrified of what could happen. You're a Slytherin. You were raised to make sure you survived, that things worked out to your benefit.

He's a Gryffindor; he's reckless, and brave. He cares more about his ideals then his survival. You can't understand why. Why he would go through the constant abuse. Despite his answer you still don't understand, not really. Because you're different people with different priorities. You watch from your door as he limps past you; head down, he looks defeated. But you know that tomorrow the smile will be back. Tomorrow he'll hide his feelings again. But right now he doesn't even notice you're there. Right now his face is a map of his thoughts. But tomorrow the mask will be up; the smile in place.

But he can never completely hide his feelings; they're in his eyes. You can see the raw pain there. He's no Slytherin. Every Slytherin has the ability to hide their thoughts. He never could. Sure, he may be able to hide his feelings from his little friends. But they're Gryffindors through and through more naïve then even him. He could never completely squash the Slytherin in him. But you know that his sorting was no mistake. It's in his eyes; it's always in his eyes.

**A/N Review!**


	4. Suppositions of Sirius

** A/N Thanks to everyone who reviewed. i'll try to update as much as I can, I'm on summer break now so they should be more frequent although I am going on vacation for the next six weeks. I'll try to update at night though.**

**Disclaimer: Sirius is not dead. And as I would never dream of telling people that he is clearly I don't own the characters.**

He's your brother. Despite your protests to the contrary he's your brother. He's Regulas. And yet, you don't see Regulas anymore. You see him and you think Slytherin, you think prat. He sees you and you're no longer Sirius, you're the Gryffindor, the disgrace, the traitor. You're brothers but you don't seem to be.

Once upon a time you were the best of friends. He looked up to you, but then, _it_ happened. You were sorted in to Gryffindor. He couldn't understand. _Wouldn't_. You tried to explain, to make him comprehend the situation. But he couldn't get past the word. One word, one seemingly meaningless word…Gryffindor. You were desperate to explain to make him understand. Because you knew it was the only way to save him, to keep him from heading down the well beaten path of a Black.

You had turned left. But he, he would turn right. You wanted to help him, you really did, but then he changed. You came back over the winter holidays and he…he was different…not

Reggie…not your little brother. He was cold, impersonal. He was lost to you. Regulas had always tried to save you from the punishments commonly inflicted on you. He was their golden child, he only need call their attention away from you and they would ignore you for weeks. But that Regulas the Regulas of the past was gone.

The new Regulas went deaf when they shouted at you, blind when they hit you. The new Regulas was unfeeling he looked down at you. Or so it seemed. But the truth was Regulas was still the same brother you grew up with.

Mostly. But now, now he had learned to be a true Slytherin; he masked his feelings, turned cold, like ice. In the time you were gone they managed to squash what little that was left of him that could turn him from that well traveled path. You couldn't read him anymore and that scared you.

But you knew that he could still read you. You could feel his eyes boring holes into your back when you left the room. And you found that you really didn't care anymore. You could only fight so hard before you stop caring. And that is what you had done.

Stopped caring; at least about what they did to you. Sometimes you wonder if you would rather have joined your brother; been a Black. But then you think of James, of Remus, of Peter, of Lily, and you realize that no you would never be like them. You couldn't.

You couldn't look down on Remus for being a werewolf, you couldn't condone barring Lily from the wizarding world for her bloodlines, and you couldn't scoff at Peter and think less of him because he wasn't as good with magic. And you could never think James a blood traitor for being friends with the so-called 'wrong-sort'. You could never be a true Black. You don't have it in you. People think you're brave for sticking up for your beliefs, going against the familial tradition of being a Black, but you disagree, you never saw any other way, you couldn't have done anything else.

**A/N Review! I love hearing from you guys!**


	5. Lamentations with Lily

**A/N Helllllllo, people! I'm in Florida! lol. School is over! **

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed!**

**Disclaimer: I promise I don't own anything.**

You watch him. He's interesting like a potion you're experimenting with. At first you thought he had only one dimension, he was a Marauder, he was James's best friend, he was obnoxious. And that was all you saw. At first. But then it happened. You were sitting in the Great Hall determinedly ignoring Potter when the scarlet envelope flew through the window on the ankle of a regal looking owl. You watched it swoop down towards him and at first you smirked thinking that his Mother was yelling at him for getting a detention. But then the Howler exploded and the voice of Sirius Black's Mother echoed through the hall. "Traitor, Disgrace. We hate you." The same phrases were repeated over and over. Until the letter exploded, Black simply smiled at everyone and shrugged it off.

You examined the area where he and his friends sat closer and noticed that Remus was frowning and appeared to be questioning him. You saw Potter giving his friend sideways looks from his spot to Black's left. You saw it all and you realized that maybe Black had more dimensions then you had previously thought. And so you watch him, wondering what he'll do next. Sirius is unlike anyone you've ever met.

He seems so happy, always smiling and getting into trouble. But then something happens and you see him turn miserable you see the smile threaten to slip. But it never does, Black is nothing if not a master at masking his emotions at least for a Gryffindor. Not that he has much competition for that, most Gryffindors scream their emotions to anyone who'll listen and several who won't. People with the kind of control that Black has are a rarity in your house. It makes you wonder what it is about him that makes him so different from everyone else; he broke over one hundred years of Black tradition when he became a Gryffindor and the weird thing is he doesn't quite fit with the mold for a Gryffindor. But no one really notices that because it just wouldn't be the same if he weren't a Gryffindor, it wouldn't be right.

Sirius Black has always been different and it is for this reason that he fascinates you. You've always liked to study the out of the ordinary. And Black is exactly that, he doesn't fit any sort of cookie-cutter mold. And he can hide things, from you. No one has ever managed to do that, you're very perceptive, you can read people. But you can't read him. Every time he gets a letter from home and his friend's move to comfort him you watch him. But he never messes up, never lets that infuriating smile slip. He knows you watch him. And he knows you can't figure it out, and that's what infuriates you more then anything else, you're supposed to have all the answers, but this time you don't this time you don't even understand what's going on. Oh yes, Sirius Black is good at what he does, he is a master of misleading, and you suppose it is this ability to mislead people that has made him suck a great prankster, not that you'd tell him that, if either his or Potter's ego where to inflate anymore the school might blow up. And besides you don't approve of his pranking.

So you remain quiet silently observing and taking note of his behavior slowly piecing together the puzzle. You know this has something to do with his family. Something's wrong there, but you have no proof, you don't really know Black. You've never really wanted to, but you know that for all their arrogance that Black and Potter as well are good people even if you're loath to admit it. But you think that maybe someday you'd like to get to know them. You'd like to understand, but for now you keep things as they are, for now the status quo is best, but later, later he'll need help more help then Potter or Lupin can offer. And then you'll know the truth, but for now, things remain the same. And perhaps it's better that way.

**A/N I'm not sure about this chapter. (sigh) lol, just review. Any suggestions for who to do next? Well after the Sirius chapter that'll come after this. Lol.**


	6. A Serious Sirius?

**A/N Just so you know everyone this is not nor will it ever be a Sirius/Lily fic, because she so belongs with James. Loll…they're just reflecting on each other, and to a certain degree they'll be friends but that's it.**

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed!**

**Disclaimer: Uh…if I owned HP would this be posted on the internet?**

Lily Evans...she's not someone you've given much thought to, beyond James' infatuation with her anyway. Your best friend's incessant jabbering about everything he loves about her is usually tuned out. But James never notices so it doesn't matter. But you pause now to consider her if just for a moment. Normally you wouldn't bother with her as you have other things to worry about but she was watching you, she knows something.

One thing you have noticed about her over the years is that she is far too observant for her own good. But you're not too worried…yet...if she really knew something she like Remus would be badgering you to go to the Headmaster. Thinking upon it you wonder if perhaps this is because they're not purebloods. You don't think the fact that Remus is a half-blood or that Lily is a muggle-born makes them any less good at magic, in fact they're among the best in your year. But a societal line still exists, especially in the case of Lily who was not raised in this world, she doesn't quite understand the power the pureblooded families hold, no one does unless they've been a part of it. And because she doesn't know this she could never understand, not really, although truly no one with the possible exception of Andromeda could really understand the hell that life in a pureblood family truly is. The other purebloods at Hogwarts either are evil or from a entire family of so-called blood-traitors, and therefore it is only your cousin who understands what it is to be the white sheep in a family of black ones.

However you aren't currently thinking of Andromeda your busy surveying Lily Evans, she's been observing you ever since you received that Howler. She doesn't know you see her watching you and therefore continues to stare at you trying to discern what it is you're hiding. Not that you'd ever tell her or anyone else for that matter. It's none of their business. It's a private matter, to be handled as his parents were so fond of saying 'within the family'.

Evans does not have the ability to mask emotions as evidenced by the way her eye twitches when James bothers her and then there's the fact that she just poured her pumpkin juice on his head. And so people who have this ability are a source of endless fascination to her, not that you'd expect anything different from someone who _actually_ _likes_ _**potions**_. But then she also seems to enjoy doing homework, clearly she's not right in the head. So you suppose you'll have to excuse her for her blatant staring. But then she wasn't force to attend etiquette classes since she was barely three.

For all her anger and intelligence you still believe she's perfect for James and you hope that she'll come to her senses and say yes one of these days. Honestly, it's not as though 'Yes' is a particularly hard word to utter, for Merlin's sake it one syllable. One of these days you'll figure out how to knock some sense in her for now you're content to watch her lob things at James' head.

As intuitive as she is you know she'll never be able to prove anything, so you really can't say you care much that she suspects something. Although you would prefer she knew nothing, you don't like to show weakness which is a large part of why you've kept this secret all these years. You hate pity, you despise sympathy, you don't want people to look at you and think 'Oh, that's the boy whose parents hate him'. Your pride is probably the strongest reason why you haven't reported it. As much as your family likes to think that it's because you're afraid of them this has little to do with it, you simply don't want pity and so you'll keep silent. And then there's the fact that no one has come up against a family like the Blacks and lived to tell the tale. And so you make sure to keep that mask in place, you'll stay silent.

You're glad that you're family is such a calculating bunch, because if they weren't you mightn't have learned how to mask thoughts and emotions so well. And without that mask you would have been done for long ago. It comes in handy no matter what the situation; be it lying to his friends, tricking a Professor, or masking fear from his parents. You're not naïve enough to think that people can't tell you're wearing a mask; that the smile isn't a false one, that the bored expression isn't carefully formulated to mask that you're upset. But you don't really care if they know you're lying; the only thing that matters is that they _don't _know what you're hiding behind that smile.

**A/N Idk…what'd you think? Review! **


	7. A Pondering Prongs

**A/N Hello everyone! Sorry for the wait but well I have an update! Lol. Oh and I promise things will get happier soon.**

**Thanks for all the reviews.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, pinky swear! Lol.**

It's the summer after your sixth year at Hogwarts and you're really starting to worry about Sirius. Normally, you make it a policy to trust him when he tells you everything will be fine and flashes you his usual megawatt smile. Usually, that will pass, because you're his best friend, and you know him better then most, and usually you believe him when he tells you he'll be fine, but this time is different.

You think perhaps it's in the way Regulas stood next to his parents nervously shifting his weight as though he knew what was to befall his brother. It was in the way the usually frozen eyes of Walburga Black filled with a manic excitement that you'd only seen mirrored in the eyes of Bellatrix, Sirius' deranged cousin. You knew it by the way Orion Black had stood there stiffly before grabbing Sirius by his arm and shoving him forward through the wall before Sirius could so much as wave. And then there was Sirius…his eyes had held a sort of fear, a fear you could actually see, and this is what worried you the most, normally you couldn't tell what you're friend was thinking, normally he could keep his thoughts hidden behind his cheerful face.

But this summer hadn't started off normal; it had started off with a noticeable sense of anticipation in the air. Everything had seemed heightened and in those last few days before the end of summer you had noticed the tension in the air. You had seen the drawn look on your friend's features and had even managed to catch a look of worry in Regulas' eyes before curtain seemed to fall across his features masking all that you could have learned from Sirius' little brother. And now you stand in your room at Potter Manor pacing back and forth before the picture window in your room. You're worried and perhaps rightfully so. Summer started month and a week ago and you've yet to hear anything from Sirius, and then today the knot in your gut had tightened. Sirius' owl Isis, had arrived at your house this morning looking ruffled and baring a single hastily scribbled note. _Things are bad, don't contact me- Padfoot. _And now you stand in front of your window eyeing the blackened sky and you can feel the excitement in the air that only comes before a large storm. This is bad, you know it, for Sirius even to admit that it meant that things were worse then ever. Your friend for all his usual hyperactive behavior and outgoing smile was a private person and he did not admit much of his home life to anyone not even to his closest friends not to you, not to Remus, and certainly not to Peter.

And now you try to quell the feelings of panic that are unfurling themselves in your gut. Something's wrong you can feel it. The clock tolls eleven and the first rain drops begin to fall. Unable to stand it anymore you dive across your bed and pull open the top drawer in your nightstand. Pulling out a small mirror you hold it to your face and whisper a single word _'Sirius'_, and the boy with his elegantly perfect hair and dancing gray eyes does not appear in the mirror. Instead you see only the ceiling of his bedroom. He's either not there or ignoring the call. Or worse he's unable to answer you.

And then you hear the shouting and you start to panic. The door flings open and you know he's there, he's not in your range of site yet but you're positive it's him. His breathing is ragged and you're positive he's hurt. You hear someone follow him in and Sirius snarls for the person to go away and leave him be. It's Regulas, you know it instinctively, because there are codes in the Black family and despite the fact that your friend is determined to ignore them you're positive he would never dare speak in that tone to his mother.

You hear Regulas whisper something and Sirius replies his voice nearing hysterical. _'Leave me be, please, Reg, just this once.' _The words end in a sob and you hear him choke slightly as though he were fighting tears. Regulas whispers that he'll help and Sirius quietly thanks his brother and you can hear them moving around the room. Regulas asks his brother if he can make it out of the house all right and Sirius says he'll be fine and you don't believe him and you're positive Regulas doesn't either.

And then a hand grabs the mirror and it's shoved into a trunk before the person notices his face in the mirror. You sigh and end the connection more worried then ever and you're confused by what you just heard, are they sending him somewhere? Is he running away? What's going on? You think you'll go mad with worry and you stomp down the hall to the Owlery in the manor and find your owl up there; grabbing a quill and parchment from the wooden table where they're kept in the Owlery's corner. Hastily you write Remus a note detailing your concern and your owl takes off with it after eyeing you angrily for lack of greeting. With a sigh you turn on your heel and head downstairs.

It's half past eleven and your parents are already upstairs in their room. You're too worried to sleep. You plop down on the bench under the window and star blankly out into the dark night silently waiting. You've fallen into an uneasy doze your head leaning against the glass when you hear a knock on the door. You jolt awake and lunge yourself across the room and to the door. Barely breathing you pull the door open and look out in the night you see no one and thought you imagined the knocking when you hear a muffled groan you look down and spy the collapsed form of your friend. He says three words that send a jolt of terror through you. _'help me, please.' _

**A/N All right so this chapter is a bit different then the rest but I'm advancing the plot so to speak, review, please. And also I'd like to know if you think I should add another chapter of James POV because Sirius is sort of out of it and his view won't be entirely coherent and most of his chapter will be what happened during the summer, so yeah, do you want more James POV? Or one of James' parents? Lol. Let me know because I actually have plot bunnies for this story and I want to start writing as soon as possible.**


	8. A Bond of Brothers

**A/N I started this chapter the day after the last one but I never had time to finish it as I ended up going to my Dad's for five days. I got back Tuesday. Anyways here's the update I promised. This is Sirius POV of what was going on during James' chapter.**

**Thanks to all Reviewers!**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own anything!**

This summer has been worse then the rest, and that's saying something. Ever since you 'turned against the family' summers have been hell. Other holidays aren't really a problem because you seldom go home unless there's an important function that all members of every family worth anything must attend. And even then they wouldn't dare touch you, because despite the fact that none of his parent's friends would bat an eyelash at this sort of abuse, things aren't done that way. They don't want their façade to be shattered because even when people know what happens in his oh so perfect home it is vital that they still hide any signs of imperfection. This is the way it's always been in pureblood families, especially one that is 'practically royal' like the Black's. And now you're sitting on your bed deathly afraid that your parents will call for you again. The last time they did you were under _Crucio_ for an hour. They took turns and now you can barely muster the strength to move let alone make a run for it.

You let out a sigh and wonder why you never let anyone help you. James had offered you help all those years ago when you'd first met and you had turned him down, you had assured him that things were fine. And you continued to tell him that for years until he almost believe you. And now you really wish you hadn't because right now you could really use some help. You manage to push yourself off the bed and leaning against the wall you make your way over to your owl's cage. She looks at you in a way that seemed to convey worry and you absently run your hand over her feathers before hastily scribbling a note to James on a piece of parchment and attaching it to her legs. You send her from the house instructing her not to come back, it would be too dangerous. You're surprised they hadn't taken her from you yet. You think she'll probably make it to James' by tomorrow morning. Hopefully James won't be too worried but you knew you had to tell him what was going on to an extent at least otherwise he'd likely send owl after owl to your house; it simply wouldn't due for that kind of attention to be directed toward you lest it give your parents another reason to 'discipline' you.

Shortly after you send the owl to James a loud pop sounds outside your door. You swallow apprehensively and wait for the summons you know is about to come. Kreacher knocks on the door and you tell him to come in. With an almost smirk on his elf features he informs 'the young master' that his parents have requested his presence in the drawing room. You nod to him and straighten the heavy black robes you wear which bear the Black family crest and motto; Toujours Pur it says, and as you read the inscription in the mirror's reflection you know without a doubt that one way or another you won't be here by summer's end.

When you enter the drawing room you walk in on the image of your Mother standing wand clasped in her hand in front of the tapestry. Your Father is sitting; his back ramrod straight in an armchair. Regulas is seated to his right on an overly upholstered and stiff couch. Although his face is smooth and unflustered you can't help but notice the way his hands seem to be shaking even as he clasps them together. You pull your eyes away from your brother and turn toward your parents. You bow slightly and inquire as to what service it is you can provide. Walburga turns and faces you; she grabs your wrist and turns your body so that you're facing the tapestry. "Look at it, Sirius, Look." She orders firmly reaching up and grabbing your chin. She digs her nails into your face painfully and you're positive she's made indentions. "You're the heir to centuries of pureblooded wizards and witches; your behavior has been unacceptable as of yet and we'll not stand for it any longer." She pauses and pulls you down slightly so you're looking directly into her eyes. "You will pledge your allegiance to the Dark Lord." She continues; it isn't a request but you intend to treat it as such. You refuse, and she looks at you with almost remorse and shakes her head. "I'm sorry you feel that way, Sirius." She says this right before she nods at your father. Orion Black rises and looks at you with cold black eyes. Walburga sits down next to Regulas on the obnoxiously pretentious couch which you despise. You hear her tell Regulas to watch because he needs to know how those who turn against the Noble and most Ancient House of Black must be treated.

Orion almost smiles as he turns his wand on you. '_Crucio_' He says the curse in an almost whisper and suddenly your body is on fire all your bones feel like they're breaking and a thousand white hot knives are stabbing you. As quickly as it started the pain ends; your father turns to you once more. "I'll ask you one more time, Sirius, will you swear your allegiance to the Dark Lord?" He says it as though he were leaving room for you to make a choice even though you know that as plain as the nose on your face that they have no intention of letting you live if you do not agree. But you don't care, you refused to compromise yourself all those years ago when you were put in Gryffindor and you won't do it now. You swallow and taste blood; but still you clench your fists and steel yourself for what's to come.

"I won't do it." You say and as you speak you see a look of pain and possibly regret cross your younger brother's face right before it's masked once more with a look of cold indifference. And then he shakes his head at you and wonders aloud what they did to get such a disappointment for a son. He casually flicks his wand and your arm bends back the bone breaking with a loud crack. You bite your lip to avoid crying out but you're unable to stop the tears that you feel gathering at the corners of your eyes. He uses the full body bind on you and continues to cast curse after curse until you're positive you're going to die from the pain. "I won't be so forgiving next time." Orion promises before he turns on his heel and exits the room. Walburga follows a few seconds later after informing you that they're giving you the night to change your mind.

Regulas offers you his hand and you shove it away not wanting his help. He rolls his eyes at you and scowls. "This is no time for pride." He says before grabbing you under your arms and pulling you to your feet. The world spins around you and you would have fallen had he not been holding you up. Somehow he manages to get you up the stairs. When you reach the landing you gather your strength and push him away from you. Leaning against the wall you make it to your room. He stubbornly trails in your wake to make sure you don't collapse. You're surprised you haven't but stubbornly continue on.

You enter your room and expect him to head down the hall to his own. He doesn't. Instead he follows you inside. You growl at him to get the hell out of your room but he ignores you. You're on the verge of hysteria and you lean against your dresser for support. Regulas rests his hand briefly on your arm. He tells you that no matter what side you're both on in the upcoming war you're still brothers. You give him the smallest of smiles and he promises to help you.

Together the two of you pack all your belongings and your brother hands you your wand. "It was in the drawing room cabinet." Regulas says smiling softly. He then pulls out his own wand and bewitches your trunk so that it is feather light. The ministry will not know who it is that performed the spell so he has nothing to fear. He hands you your cloak and helps you down the stairs. Finally he whispers the enchantments that will unlock the door. Your parents don't hear a thing and you're relieved even though you're positive they'll soon be blasting you're name off the tapestry and thus removing you from the family. "Take care of yourself." He whispers sounding like the little brother you knew before he became a Slytherin. You smile faintly and hug him gingerly despite the pain it causes you.

"Aren't I supposed to tell you that? I am the big brother after all…" You reply mentally taking a picture of your brother so that you'll never forget what he was like in this moment, the moment when he was Regulas and not the perfect son of Orion and Walburga Black.

"Trust me, you need the looking after more then me, you're the Gryffindor after all." Regulas answers with a smirk before he presses a picture into your hands. You look down at it; it's one of you two right before your first year. The both of you are smiling and your arm is around his shoulders. Anyone who looked at it would see a pair of obviously close brothers. You swallow it shouldn't be this hard for you to say goodbye. You reach into your cloak's pocket and hand him a different photograph. It's one of the two of you playing Qudditch together; it was also taken the summer before your first year. He grins at you and you see that his eyes are sparkling with tears.

"All the same, take care of yourself." You answer finally. He nods and whispers goodbye softly. You say the same back and then you turn your back on Grimwauld Place and head down the walk and away from you're former home. He shuts the door and heads back up the stairs as if nothing happened. You expected nothing different. But you're glad that in the end despite everything that changed you were still brothers even behind the masks you both wear.

**A/N Okay so now that I've thoroughly depressed myself review and make me happy. Lol. The next chapter will be the continuation of James' POV from chapter seven. After that I'll do a bit of his parents, then Peter, Snape, and maybe McGonagall or Dumbledore. And then it'll probably end (don't worry things get happier…kind of…since there is that whole they're going to die in a few years ruins the happily ever after but my story ends happy.) I'll probably end with Remus and Sirius because then it like comes full circle. So anyways Review.**


	9. A Panicked Prongs

**A/N: Tdlf;'sal. Meh, sorry about the wait. Here's the short of it, we got hit with flooding and I was without my computer for awhile, electricity as well for that matter. We got out power back last week but it was still several days before they could hook the computer back up since the basement where it was had flooded. Yeah, so, anyways Thanks to All Reviewers!**

**Disclaimer: I own nada. **

You swallow down the bile rising in the back of your throat as you look down at the broken and battered body of your best friend. You freeze; standing completely still in a state of shock for a few moments before you manage to snap out of it and all but jump at him. "Sirius?" You whisper your voice cracking slightly as you kneel next to him on the damp cement of the porch.

He mumbles something indistinct and you manage to shift him so that you can carry him into the house. He's much thinner then you remember; his bones seem to stick out more then what you'd consider healthy. You don't bother shutting the front door as you step over several pairs of shoes cluttered on the floor.

Sirius shifts again and his left arm comes into your line of sight. You're certain you'll be sick right then and there. You can literally see the bone in his wrist it's sticking out ominously and amplifying the near lifeless features of your normally lively friend. You manage to get him over to the couch, he shivers and you frown placing a hand on his forehead. 'Damn,' you mutter the curse frantically as a ping of terror resonates painfully through you like the sound of bells in the steeple of that muggle church just outside your town.

'Hurts, James, hurts' Your attention snaps back toward Sirius, it's the most coherent thing he's said since he asked for your help when you first opened the door. You pause and try to figure out what to do, it's as though your mind has frozen or at least slowed down leaving you with the approximate mental capacity of an exceptionally stupid four year old. Hell, you're fairly certain a four year old could do better in this situation.

Sirius groans again the pain he's feeling rolling off his still body in waves. _Sirius is never still_. It's as though a switch has been turned on in your head, in fact if this was one of those muggle cartoons you'd seen when you went to Remus' house you're sure an animated light bulb would be illuminated above your head.

You shake your head ruefully as you race through the mostly dark manor stumbling several times on your way up the stairs. As you trip over something, you're not sure what, it occurs to you that Sirius would definitely have been better off contacting a four year old for help, he could've asked his cousin Nymphadora for help and gotten a better response. Most kids would think of getting their parents immediately if they saw someone hurt, but you froze and you can't help but hate yourself for it. You reach your parents room and swing the door open without pausing to knock. 'Mum. Dad..' The words are uttered loudly, frantically, and they seem to echo in the room. They hear you and sit up in bed almost immediately. Your father reaches for his wand on the bedside table and before you can say '_Qudditch_' he's lit up the whole room.

"What is it James?" Your mother asks already pulling on a robe over her pajamas.

"Sirius. Downstairs. Hurt." You can't seem to string together a coherent sentence when the knowledge of your critically injured friend circles morbidly like a vulture overhead. They seem to understand you because without another word they're racing past you down the stairs and toward the living room. You run a hand over your face tiredly and swallow as tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You've never been so scared. _Sirius could die. _

You allow yourself a brief moment's pause in a desperate attempt to pull yourself together, and then you turn and hurriedly head after your parents. _He's your best friend. He could die. _When you enter the living room it's lit up and instead of the light making the room seem more cheerful it only serves to highlight the broken appearance of the pureblooded boy. _They would've killed him; killed their own son. He still might die. _"How is he?" You rasp out licking your lips subconsciously aware that the bottom one has cracked and is bleeding slightly.

"I'm not sure how much I can do," Doreah Potter starts worry etched on her features.

"He'll be okay?" You mean it as a statement but the words come out as a question. _He's your best friend; he can't die, you won't let him. _

"We need to take him to St. Mungo's." Charlus Potter answers his son.

"N-no, h-hospital." Sirius interrupts his eyes shut tight against the pain pounding through every inch of his body.

"Shh, you'll be okay, sweetie." Your mother whispers to him soothingly.

"Can't. No. I. won't go." The words come out disjointed but it's clear to all three of you what his meaning is.

"Mum, we can't take him there, he's sixteen, they'll make him go back." You say interrupting her attempts at cajoling Sirius. She opens her mouth to argue but it abruptly snaps closed as she realizes the horrible truth of her son's words.

"Fine, we'll take him to Hogwarts then." She finally compromises in the interests in getting the boy she's come to see as a second son medical care as fast as possible. The three of you manage to at least stabilize the black haired boy before you pile into the fire heading through the swirling world of green toward the castle.

**A/N Review, pretty please.**


	10. Significant to Sirius

**A/N Hello, my darling readers, I am so, so, so terribly sorry about the long wait. I had another chapter written besides this one, but I lost it, remember when I told you about the flood? Well, it took a few weeks but my computer finally had a break down, and I lost a lot of files. The next chapter for this story among them. I rather liked that chapter; it was in Dumbledore's point of view. Alas, there is nothing that could be done about it. Anyway, I really am quite sorry. I hope you can all forgive me.**

**Thanks to all Reviewers!**

**  
Dedication: To **_**Keiri Bradon**_**, happy almost birthday, that's so awesome that our birthdays are on the same day only eight more days! I'll try to update this again before then. And also, to **_**SWaddict1986**_** for all her fabulous reviews which I absolutely adored. And finally to **_**AliceIsLost**_**, I hope you haven't died of anticipation, yet. Lol. **

**Disclaimer: "Any societies that needs disclaimers has too many lawyers." (Not that I really think that cuz I want to be a lawyer, lol, anyway I own nada!) **

You can hear voices all around you but it's difficult to make out what they're saying. You're still feeling groggy and you're having trouble remembering where you are. And, then it hits you like a ton of bricks, you ran away, your parents attacked you. But, despite all this, you feel this strange feeling of elation deep in your chest because you're finally free. After undergoing years of torture at the hands of your own flesh and blood you're finally, finally free.

Some part of you is still terrified that your parents will show up and drag you back to your house. You really wish you were seventeen; that way you wouldn't have to worry anymore. But, your majority is still a year away which means you're reduced to spending your time silently terrified that your parents will show up and drag you back. And, no matter what any one says you know that if your parents want you back you'll have to go. The Blacks are one of the most powerful families in the wizarding community; they're 'practically royalty' as your mother was always fond of telling you.

You don't even think Dumbledore has enough power to keep them from dragging you back, and you're probably right.

Your head is throbbing painfully and the voices around you are still unintelligible. You really hope James managed to convince his parents to take you to Hogwarts instead of St. Mungo's. If he didn't your parents will undoubtedly have to show up at the hospital pretending concern at your injuries, and you'll have to lie and say you fell down the stairs, and despite the fact that your injuries are obviously due to curse damage the Healers will smile and nod, because that's the way things work in the wizarding world at least when you're the heir to one of the most powerful pureblood families in existence.

The funny thing is that many of your classmates probably believe you to live some kind of charmed life, being that you stand to inherit millions of galleons, as well as the power and prestige guaranteed to a member of the Black family. But you don't want it, you couldn't care less about any of it, you just want to be free. But no one understands that, you really wish someone could understand.

You let out a soft groan and you hear the voices around you increase their volume. You can tell their excited about something but you don't have the energy to open your eyelids; they suddenly feel like they weigh at least a ton each. You long for a less complicated life, sometimes you think it'd be easier to be a muggleborn, despite the fact that they're thrust into a strange world they had no idea existed at least they don't have any expectations heaped upon them. You're expected to be the best, to get perfect grades, to adhere to every archaic pureblood code, and be a Black, whatever that means.

You're not even sure you want to wake up anyway; you know that will only mean more pain, pain from your injuries and pain because you know you're not wanted, you're not sure why it bothers you so much that your parents don't care about you beyond what you can do for their image. And worst of all you know that when you open your eyes you'll be looking into pity-lined faces and pity is the last thing you ever wanted; the last thing you'd ever ask for.

You really hope Regulas is okay, you know your parents probably won't get mad at him, heck, they probably won't even suspect he helped you. He's like royalty to them; Regulas the _little king_. Sometimes you think his name is terribly accurate, after all your parents treat him like he's royalty, but most of the time you think 'Regulas' is more of misnomer then anything else. Because your parents control him and a king is supposed to be the boss, but at the same time you think that Regulas will live up to his name in the end. He'll stand up for what's right. You're fairly certain he just needs to figure out what that is first.

And then there's you, the Dog Star, you're parents probably find it fitting, seeing as they believe you to be no better then any animal. You're also the brightest star in your constellation, but they don't acknowledge that much the same way they don't notice you're talents. They only notice your faults and sometimes you wish they'd accept you, but most of the time you don't, because you've seen what that acceptance does to people, people like Regulas and Narcissa, neither of them were ever particularly evil, you could never even thing your younger brother to be evil, but they didn't have any particular amount of backbone, and without that it would be impossible for them to escape their heritage. You still hold out hope for them though, especially Regulas, you still hold out hope for most of you family, actually, because it seems horrible to think that his family, his flesh and blood are completely irredeemable.

For some reason you feel like a failure, you're not sure why, but you think that you're taking the easy way out by running away. You feel bad for leaving Regulas. You feel bad for imposing on the Potters (not that they see it that way). You really wish that you could let someone help you, but you're afraid to accept help from anyone. In so many ways you're completely a Black, but at the same time you lack the core qualities of a Black, and this makes you wonder what are you? You're the white sheep of a black family and you feel as though you're completely alone, and sometimes you think it'd be easier just to do what your parents want you to. Because, really, you're just a kid, you shouldn't have to make life changing decisions such as the one you made tonight. But, you've grown up fast, you lost your childhood at some point, you're not sure where it went but you know you must've had one at some point.

Most days you feel like an actor on a stage, or maybe a puppet, because you feel like you're being controlled by someone else most of the time, and it seems as though you'll never be able to make your own decisions. You made one tonight, and you're not sure if that's good or not. You wish you had answers but all you have are questions. You don't know what to do and you wish you had normal parents like James does, the kind who would tuck you in at night and take care of you when you're sick and tell you that everything was going to be okay. But you don't have those parents. You have Orion and Walburga.

You can hear the voices again and you decide that you're going to have to wake up and answer them because James is one of them, you know this instinctively, and he's probably freaking out and thinking your dead or something. So, you concentrate and lift your immeasurably heavy eyelids and blink several times trying to clear your vision as the room spins around you. "Hello." You say startling everyone in the room who stare at you strangely. What did they expect you to say? 'My parents are evil gits…' You suppose you could've said that, but you can't really figure out what kind of good it would've done. So, instead you force a smile on your face even though it comes out as more of a grimace and turn to Madame Pomfrey and say "Poppy, darling, it's been far too long." You startle a laugh out of them and you sigh contentedly, maybe they won't bother you about your parents. You don't think you could handle their questions right now. Sometimes you wish you had the perfect Slytherin mask that everyone in his family had mastered. You really wish you had it right now. But, you think that the mask you do have, the one made of smiles and jokes and pranks, is quite enough to fool this group.

**A/N Review, please. I shall update very, very soon. I think maybe I shall do one of James' parents, possibly his mother. Send in any suggestions you have. Thanks!**


	11. Dumbledore Deliberates

**A/N Hello, my darlings, I apologize for the wait. I have been swamped with school this year, but that is really no excuse. However, here is the update I should've written a while ago.**

**Thanks to all Reviewers!**

**Disclaimer: I own nada.**

You stand in the Hospital Wing just behind Dorea, Charlus and James Potter all of whom are clustered around Sirius Black's bedside looking extremely anxious and even more upset. You merely stand behind them a frown creasing you wizened face so that you look even older the usual. And, if the rumors that you've been alive since the founding of Hogwarts are anything to go by you are quite old.

You look down at the bruised, yet still strangely elegant face of Sirius Black and you wonder not for the first time what he is hiding. You're excellent at reading people, but then you're a skilled Legilimens, so that's not really much of a shock. You've always known that something was off about Sirius Black, but you were never positive what it was. You've heard the rumors of course, the rumors that Sirius was hated by his family. Of course, you never really took much stock by rumors. You've always believed in ignoring rumors until confirmed by the actual individual either by words or by actions. Perhaps that makes you a trusting old fool. But you don't really care what people think about you.

You feel inexplicably sad, sadder then you've felt in a long time as you look down into that young face because you know as surely as you know that dark times are coming upon the wizarding world, that Sirius Black is not going to be willing to reveal his secrets so easily.

Secret keeping comes naturally to members of the prominent pureblood families. And, the Blacks, as you can recall, are nothing if not prominent and secretive. Tojourus Pur, always pure, or so they say. You wonder about their so called purity, you hardly think that being able to say you're one of the most inbred families in the world is true purity. But then, maybe all those journalists are right and you're just a doddering old fool.

You think that what the Blacks have done to Sirius, this bright, energetic boy, who has only ever wanted to be noticed, to be accepted. You also think that this desire to be accepted is why the boy was drawn to Remus Lupin and to Peter Pettigrew; you think that Sirius sees himself in their desire to fit in, to be taken as they are. You also think that Sirius wants to be like James; James is accepted not just at school but by his family.

You know that this desire to be accepted is what really makes Sirius a Gryffindor, as well as Remus and Peter. Gryffindors above all else even their bravery are known for their fierce loyalty to their friends. This is the real reason that Sirius is a Gryffindor, because he would defend with his dying breath and even beyond those whom he cared about. That is what makes Sirius a Gryffindor. Of course, his bravery and recklessness don't hurt either.

You quietly observe the battered child, because that's what he is really, a child, some more and notice that he seems to be nearing consciousness. He will be awake soon, and then it will be your duty to convince him to seek help. Sadly, you're not very optimistic about this. You don't think that Sirius will actually accept help, will actually admit to being abused. And, you know and are horrified by the fact that Sirius will not receive justice if he will not come forward. The pureblood families are protected by strict laws. And, they cannot be touched unless each specific criterion is met. If Sirius will not admit to the abuse his family will go free.

You will not allow that to happen. Sirius Black, you know, is one of those students who will stick with you forever. His story and his bravery will haunt you for the rest of your days. You will not allow him to have more heartbreak at such a young age, you will help him, even if he doesn't want your help.

**A/N Review, please. I know it was short, but I do have the next two chapters written. So, review, and I will post them.**


	12. Sirius Speculates

**A/N I have returned! With an update! Now I just need a nice alliterative chapter title, but that's pretty much a moot point because by the time you read this I will have thought of one, no? **

**Thanks to All Reviewers!**

**Dedication: To AliceIsLost, KeiriBrandon, and ariex, my reviewers for the last chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I own nada.**

Dumbledore has always made you uncomfortable. There was something about his piercing blue eyes that made you feel like you weren't hiding anything from him, like he saw straight through the smiles, and the pranks and the laughter to the scared little boy huddled under his blankets trying to become invisible as his mother's shouts echoed through the hallways.

The headmaster clears his throat loudly focusing the attention of the room's occupants on himself once more. You focus your attention on a loose thread in your blanket, reluctant to catch Dumbledore's eye.

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave the room for a few minutes whilst Mister Black and I have a short chat." Dumbledore said looking meaningfully at James' parents. You send James a pleading look but he shrugs at you helplessly and allows his parents to steer him from the room. Madame Pomfrey bustles out of the room muttering something about sorting through various potions.

You absently gnaw on your lower lip and absently long to transform into Padfoot. Your emotions have always seemed much simpler, less poignant as a dog. You shove this urge down and school your countenance into a carefully blank expression and defiantly meet the headmaster's eyes.

"Sirius," Dumbledore surveys you over his spectacles again, reminding you uncomfortably of being x-rayed.

"Headmaster," You respond pointedly.

"You know Sirius; I've always found that talking about problems helps work out a solution." Dumbledore's voice sounds oddly gentle and you look at him blankly for a few moments.

"I don't have any problems," You respond with a nervous laugh, "I mean, I get a couple detentions here and there, and my History of Magic grade could stand to be higher, but I really don't think those qualify as problems…" You stop talking abruptly realizing that you were rambling. Blacks don't ramble.

"Really?" Dumbledore asked mildly. "It seems to me someone has hurt you pretty badly…" The wizened headmaster left the sentence open-ended waiting for your response.

"I-I fell," You say lamely. You almost wince at the pathetic sound of your voice but your mask holds. Mother would be proud, you think. Just like the perfect little pure-blood you keep your mouth shut about the abuse. You refuse to be weak. You won't accept help.

"You fell?" He queried raising his eyebrows so high that they were in danger of disappearing into his hair.

"Y-yes, I fell," You say quietly. "Down two flights of stairs," Your voice is gaining strength now.

"Ah," Dumbledore fell silent for a moment. "Madame Pomfrey said your body shows unmistakable signs of curse damage, in fact she says your tests reveal that you underwent the Cruciatus Curse for an extended length of time."

"The tests are wrong." You say stubbornly. "I fell. If you ask my parents they'll tell you, but I'd really rather you didn't contact them over this."

"Why is that?" The headmaster asks and you rack your brain for a feasible answer.

"Because…" You feel panic beginning to set in before your mind finally seizes on an idea. "Because, she'll make me go back to etiquette lessons, it's not fitting for a Black to be seen tripping over everything, Mother detests clumsiness." You concentrate on keeping your panic and fear from entering your eyes; they're always your undoing.

Dumbledore shakes his head sadly at you before speaking again. "Listen to me Mister Black, I can't help you if you won't let me, I need you to tell me what happened to you, if you don't tell me there's nothing I can do. I can only tell the Ministry my suspicions, and-"

"What suspicions?!" You interrupt the wizard anxiously.

"My suspicions of child abuse," Dumbledore answers gently.

"Abuse?" You try to laugh but you choke on it and it comes out as a half-strangled noise of panic. "The only abuse going on in that house, is the abuse of the staircase on my poor body. You should really consider having charges brought up against that staircase." You're rambling again and you're not quite sure how to stop. This has never happened to you before. No one has ever tried to press this far past your walls.

"Just listen to me for a few moments longer, and then I'll leave you to think about it, all right?"

"Fine." You respond tersely, you clench your fists around your blankets and meet his gaze determinedly.

"The laws protecting the old pure-blood families are strict and very difficult to circumvent, the only way for your parents to be punished, and for you to actually be free from their abuse, is if you tell me that they are hurting you. You will have to admit to the abuse, and submit your memories for examination by skilled Ministry wizards, St. Mungo's healers will need to come and examine you to record the abuse, and you will also have to talk with a mind-healer in order for your testimony to be considered valid." Dumbledore paused for a few moments allowing for his words to sink in. "If you refuse to do this, I cannot guarantee that your parents will not force you back, you are what, sixteen? Fifteen? Your parents will be well within their legal rights to force you home if you do not testify to the abuse." Dumbeledore surveyed you for a few moments longer taking in the stubborn unyielding expression upon your face before sighing and nodding wearily. "Very well, Mister Black, I leave you to consider my words."

You watch his back as he gets up and walks out of the hospital wing and listen to the sound of his footsteps echoing softly on the tiled floor of the ward. You think that you can hear them for several minutes after they have faded away.

You think that he is probably talking to James' parents because several minutes pass by without their reentrance into the room. You hope that Dumbledore is not telling them of his suspicions, even though you know with painful certainty that the abuse is manifestly obvious.

You wonder about the headmaster sometimes, there's something in the deep creases that line his face that make you think he knows real pain, maybe not the pain of abuse that you know, but real gut-wrenching pain like the pain of realizing your parents don't love you.

You think that he maybe understands just a little bit about how hard this is for you. But you don't think anyone could really understand, after all there hasn't been a Black outside of Slytherin in centuries, and certainly there has never been anyone in the direct line that has been such a disappointment as you.

You wish you had been a better Black. You wish you were stronger, strong enough to keep silent, strong enough to handle the pain of being unloved. You want all these things like a plant in the desert longs for a single drop of rain.

You learned a long time ago that it does no good to wish upon a star. Wishes are for helpless little children without a real problem in the world. You are no child.

You school you face carefully into a smile-though it seems more a grimace-as you hear voices right outside the door. It's time to return to your role. As some muggle you shouldn't know about once said, "All the world is a stage and all the men and women merely players."

**A/N See, my darlings, I told you the update would be fast. So, review, please. The next chapter is James' Mother. School starts on Monday Ugh. That being said I better stop playing bloons on addictinggames and go do my physics homework. Ugh.** **Junior year is soo the worst year ever. Between Physics and Precalc I am so going to blow my brains out.**


	13. Dorea Decides

**A/N Hello, my lovely reader-type peoples! I have returned with the update that I actually wrote in like January and then forgot about... It is currently spring break so that means that it is update time! **

**Thanks to all Reviewers!**

**Dedication: SWaddict1986, Lioness-of-Tortall-7, ariex, Keiri Brandon, livin and breathin, and AliceIsLost, my lovely reviewers from last chapter!**

**Disclaimer: The author claims no rights to any characters described herein, she happily disclaims any and all ownership in this regard. The author also comments that if she owned Harry Potter would she really have to worry about passing Precalc?**

_Dorea Potter understood what it was to disappoint the Black family; after all she had been a Black once upon a time. _

You know something about being a Black, and about being a disappointment. You were born Dorea Black after all, not that many people outside of the pureblood circle know that you used to be a Black. It's not something your family goes out of its way to emphasize. Sure, they didn't go so far as to disown you, your name still resides on the family tapestry, in fact a little gold thread links you to Charlus Potter. But still, you've never been what the Blacks would call an ideal child; you were simply good enough not to be disowned. And you don't really think that's anything to be proud of.

You've always liked Sirius Black, he's your great-nephew but you really see him as more of a second son. He and James have been close since they first met, years ago at one of those Ministry fundraisers. You wish that you could have done more to help him all these years, you've feel like it's been your responsibility. After all, as a former Black, you'd know better then most what he's going through.

Although, if you were going to identify yourself with one of the current Black siblings you would identify more with Regulus than Sirius. You were never as brave as Sirius. Sirius is all raw courage and bravery, he is a true Gryffindor, everything you used to wish you could be, but were never brave enough for. Regulus is a Slytherin, but not a modern Slytherin. You think people have lost sight of what being a Slytherin is, being a true Slytherin is about survival and cunning, it's never really been about blood purity. That's more of modern spin off. In the traditional sense of the word both you and Regulus and even Andromeda are real Slytherins.

But you don't think that any of you (except maybe Bellatrix) really buy this blood purity garbage your family spews out. Well, you certainly don't, anyway. Still, you've always secretly wanted to be a Gryffindor, they always seem so much happier, much freer then the Slytherins. When you were at school it was constantly about alliances and power plays never about real friendship and certainly not about fun. Well, you suppose it may have been a bit fun. But still. You always wanted to be unguarded, like a Gryffindor, like Sirius.

Although, you don't suppose that Sirius really is unguarded. He may pretend to be, and he's even pretty good at it. Most people wouldn't notice a thing. But you can recognize the signs: you've been there yourself.

You had two brothers once upon a time, Perfect Pollux, and Marius. Marius was a squib, but he was your favorite, he always played with you and read to you, until suddenly one day he was just gone. And, you asked your Mum where your brother was and she responded that Pollux was of course at Hogwarts. And you said "No, Mum, not Pollux, Marius." Your mother frowned at you and said "I only have one son. Pollux. And if you mention such a dirty sounding name again I will Scourfigy your mouth."

You still miss Marius. Sometimes you wonder if you had been brave like Sirius would you have been able to save your brother? You watch Sirius and your heart aches because he is like your second son, almost like James' twin, the way they're so close, and it kills you to see him in pain.

You watch as year after year he becomes more withdrawn, more guarded, you watch as his mask gets better and better. You even manage to nod and almost, almost buy his excuses when he tells you he fell down the stairs again when he comes to visit at the end of each summer vacation. You feel like you've failed him, because you never spoke up. And maybe you're right. To be honest, you never realized how bad it really was before tonight, the terrifying night, when James came running into your room babbling about how Sirius was hurt.

You grew up a Black, and things had never been quite so bad for you. Of course you were not the heir to the entire family, and you were a Slytherin, a perfect Slytherin just like they always wanted or demanded. And after Marius practically anything seemed fine, you suspect this is why you got away with marrying Charlus despite his status as a former Gryffindor and his family's close to blood traitor leanings.

You put your head in your hands willing away the tears that you feel edging out from beneath your eyelids. It won't due to scare James or Charlus or Sirius if or when he wakes up. You vow that the Blacks will not be taking Sirius back after this, you, Dorea Potter née Black, are going to save him, you are not going to accept some story about falling down stairs again. You will make sure that Sirius gets help, and you don't mean that he is simply removed from his family's house, you mean actual help, the kind that might possibly involve talking to a mind healer, not that you think Sirius will be too keen about the idea. But you think that maybe that's what he needs to get help. You know that he will never be able to open up to his friends and certainly not to you or Charlus, because he is a Black, a perfect, emotionless Black. He will not let anyone see that he is upset, he will not show weakness. You know that this is why he always smiles, even when you can see and everyone can see that he is not happy in the slightest.

You will save Sirius Black if it is the last thing you do. Because you owe it to him, and because he is like your second son, and because you know that James would never survive without him. You will save Sirius Black.

**A/N Review, please!**


	14. Sirius Sighs

**A/N Hello, my lovely readers, I have returned with another update! Thank you for all of your lovely comments on the last chapter. :)**

**Thanks to all Reviewers!**

**Dedication: To AliceIsLost, Lioness-of-Tortall-7, Nyxelestia, SWaddict1986, and ariex, for their lovely reviews.**

**Disclaimer: I possess nothing other than a rather large mountain of homework.**

You're always careful about how you act around Mrs. Potter, she's no easily-fooled Gryffindor, you don't mean it is an insult to your house that they're easily fooled; it's a fact of Gryffindor house that they are loyal to a fault. Gryffindor is sort of like Hufflepuff in that way, at least in terms of thinking the best in people for the most part, except that Gryffindors have an official anti-Slytherin policy and Hufflepuffs just like everyone. Mrs. Potter was a _Slytherin _when she went to Hogwarts, and worse than that she used to be a Black, which means that she has been trained from birth to mask her thoughts, and she, unlike you, is capable of the subtle cunning that all traditional Slytherins seem to have. Like Andromeda she is good at getting you to reveal more than you ever thought possible before you even realize that you never wanted to tell anyone that. This makes her very dangerous. You've never been very good when it comes to subtlety- you've always believed in the direct approach, which suits you well as a Gryffindor, seeing as how subtle and Gryffindor are seldom seen in the same sentence unless the word "not" appears in between them.

Mrs. Potter is here now, you heard her talking quietly to Madame Promfrey a few minutes ago, and then you heard someone sit down in one of the chairs next to your bed. You've been lying here with your eyes closed concentrating on keeping your breathing even for the last several minutes so that you don't have to answer her questions. You know that _she_ at least will not believe your lies, not when you showed up at her doorstop bleeding all over her spotless hardwood floors at two in the morning or whenever it was (it seems like forever ago). And, as a former Black she will likely have experienced the horrors of growing up in the Black house. Granted she was not from the main branch of the family so she probably didn't experience anything quite as horrific as you, being the heir to the main branch. Still, you are pretty sure that she will not believe that you "fell down the stairs." Honestly, falling down the stairs is the oldest lie in the book, but it's always worked for you, and besides that, it doesn't really matter what you say because unless you are willing to take extensive legal action the Ministry would never look twice into your story. The Blacks are a very influential family.

You shift slightly, the movement is mechanical. You've never been one to be still even for a moment and if you don't move at least a little Mrs. Potter will begin to suspect that you are awake. And, you really don't think that you can face her right now. You don't think you could face anyone actually. You feel so weak, so useless; you don't want to face these people and see the sympathy in their eyes. You hate sympathy more than anything else in the world.

You know that eventually you will have to open your eyes and face Mrs. Potter because from the sound of things she isn't planning to go away in the near future. Of course, she will eventually have to leave in order to eat or something. You ponder opening your eyes and talking to her, how bad can it possibly be? She has been outside of the Black family for years now; maybe she will have forgotten how bad things get on the inside. Honestly, you think that you could almost forget how bad things are, because well, they're so terrible that it seems pretty unbelievable that things can be as bad as you remember them, except that every time you go home things are as bad as you remember and worse.

Just as you are considering "waking up," Mrs. Potter speaks. "I know you're awake, Sirius," she says her tone deceptively mild. You sigh and open your eyes looking up to meet another pair of eyes in the familiar shade of gray common to the Black family, her eyes are more of a light greenish-gray than the molten-silver color of your own though.

You fix a smile onto your face, although you fear it is more of grimace and reply: "Hello, Mrs. Potter, did I scare you?"

She doesn't reply right away and instead fixes you with an unblinking gaze.

"I fell down the stairs, you know, I'm not sure if Dumbledore told you, but it was quite the nasty scrape." You're rambling again, and realizing this, you close your mouth with an audible snap.

"Sirius," She begins carefully, her face devoid of emotions that would reveal her thoughts. She's got a perfect Slytherin mask, even after years of living with Gryffindors. You suppose idly that something like that never completely disappears. "We both know you didn't fall down any stairs-" She paused again. "Unless your parents threw you down them, of course." She watches you carefully after she says this, searching your face for a reaction. She's good, but so are you.

"Why on earth would Mother or Father throw me down the stairs?" You ask looking at her with wide, shocked eyes.

"If I didn't know better I would almost believe you." Dorea replied. She looked like she was going to address your "accident" some more when she abruptly switched tacks. "What do you know about my brother?"

"Grandpa Pollux?" You ask as though you know nothing of her other brother, the one the Blacks no longer acknowledge.

"No," She replied calmly. "My brother Marius. We were really close, you know, almost like best friends, of course, when he turned eleven, and no Hogwarts letter came Mother and Father were furious. They sent me to stay with my Uncle Sirius, that would be your Great-Grandpa, for a couple of days after that. And, when I came home Marius was gone, and when I asked about him Mother slapped me across the face and told me that her only son was Pollux, perfect Pollux." Dorea stopped here watching the effect of her words on you. "I never found out what happened to him. Only that he was gone, and that he wasn't my brother anymore."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Potter." You say after a pause lasting for several seconds. You know that it is not enough, but you don't suppose anything could ever be enough to counter such a loss.

"It was a long time ago." She says softly. "But the point is, Sirius, that I know that everything is not as perfect as it appears in the Black family, and don't think for one second that I buy that story about falling down the stairs, if you don't want to file charges against your parents that's fine, although I recommend that you do, but you will talk to someone, a professional that is, I will not stand by and let this destroy you. You matter too much to me for that, Sirius." She stood up then. "James is anxious to see you…think about what I said, Sirius." She leaves then after patting you on the shoulder.

You sit silently for several moments after she is gone. You know that you should talk to someone, but at the same time you can't fathom telling anyone about what goes on in your house. It is the number one rule of being a Black -never tell an outsider what goes on in the Black household. And, yet, it's probably the best option you will get from Mrs. Potter, and you can always sit silently through a couple sessions with the mind healer or utilize your practically perfect mask of smiles and jokes and laughter and convince the healer that you are perfectly fine. And, maybe then everyone will give you some room to breathe.

You wonder if you should try to report your parents, as Mrs. Potter and Dumbledore seem to think. You don't think that it could possibly work, and you are terrified that if you take legal action your parents will force you to come back home. You don't know what to do. You wish you weren't a Black more at this moment than any other in your life. You wonder how Mrs. Potter managed to survive your family with relatively little harm. You push these thoughts aside as you hear voices in the corridor again. It's show time, you think, as you force another smile across your countenance.

**A/N Review, please, tell me who you would like to see in the next chapter. **


	15. A Jumbled James

**A/N Hello, my darling readers, it is SUMMER! YES! YES! YES! And, as you can probably tell I have returned with an update. **

**Thanks to all Reviewers!**

**Dedication: To Nyxelestia, AliceIsLost, SWaddict1986, livin and breathin for their lovely reviews. :)**

You've known this moment was coming for years, ever since you and Sirius were young children, you've always known that the circumstances at his house were less than ideal. And, now looking back on it, you're pretty sure that you've been expecting something like this to happen ever since Sirius got sorted into Gryffindor. He's your best friend and you wish more than anything that you could take some of his pain from him, lighten his load, but you know you can't if he won't let you.

You realize that you feel angry, really, really angry. And, you're not sure who you're angry at. Is it Sirius' parents for doing this to him? Well, you're certainly angry about that, but there's more to your rage then the portion of it directed at Orion and Walburga. You're also mad at Sirius, and you feel guilty for being angry with him, but you can't help but want to give him a few good shakes and beat some sense into him, so that he'll tell Dumbledore what happened to him. And you're angry at Dumbledore, and at the ministry for not being able to help your best friend. And more than that you're angry at yourself for keeping quiet all these years when you knew that something was not write with Sirius' home life.

With this last though you square your shoulders and walk into the hospital wing. You walk up to his bed and sit down in the chair perched right next to it.

"Padfoot," You say quietly. He doesn't answer. He seems to be waiting for you to say something else. "I'm sorry." You say finally.

He doesn't seem to be expecting this because he frowns and something flickers behind his eyes before his face becomes carefully blank. "For what? It's not your fault I'm clumsy."

"Don't lie to me." Your voice sounds harsh and you see him wince. "You're the most graceful person in this entire school, clumsy people don't play Quidditch, and they certainly aren't among the best beaters the school has ever seen."

"So?"

"_So._" You repeat forcefully. "So, you didn't fall down any _stairs_, Sirius."

"You can't prove that." He replies without denying anything.

"No," You concede. "_I_ can't prove anything, but _you_ can." You pause allowing this to sink in before saying anything else. "And I don't understand why you won't let anyone help you, why you won't let _me_ help you, you're my best friend, Sirius, and I can't imagine life without you, and it's killing me to watch you in pain, do you know how I felt when I opened my front door to find you half dead and bleeding all over the concrete?" You watch as a spasm of pain flickers across his face mirroring the agony that you have been feeling.

"I'm sorry." He says.

"_Sorry_?" You ask incredulously. "I don't want you to be sorry; it's not _your_ fault, you know that don't you?" You stare at his carefully blank countenance waiting for a reply. "Right?" You repeat.

"I don't know anything anymore." He says finally. The words send little stabs of pain through your heart; this is Sirius, confident, cheerful Sirius, saying that he doesn't know anything.

"Pad…"

"I'm fine." He says unconvincingly. You disregard this remark.

"You need help."

"I'm fine." He repeats.

"No, no you're not. But you will be, with a little help." You pause gathering your thoughts before continuing. "I owled Remus."

"You shouldn't have bothered him. This isn't worth troubling him over."

"He'll be here tomorrow." You continue as though he hadn't spoken.

Silence descends on the both of you for several moments before he speaks.

"I'm scared," He admits in a small voice reminding you of how he always sounded when the two of you were young and the thunderstorms would keep him awake at night.

"Of what?" You ask cautiously.

"I don't know. Everything. Nothing." He's quiet again and you wonder if he's going to continue. "I'm afraid that if I…if I say that I didn't fall down the stairs that no one will believe me, and if they do that I still might lose the lawsuit anyway, and that if I lose then they'll force me to live with them again. I just want this to be over."

"But they can force you to go home anyway." You say bluntly. "Think about it, what are your parents obsessed with more than anything else? Their reputations." You let this sink in before continuing. "How do you think it will look in their little pureblood circles if you suddenly disappear? If it comes to light that you ran away from home?"

He stares at you with horror in his eyes. "I can't go back, Prongs…I can't, I won't go back,"

"Shh," You say softly trying to comfort him. "We can protect you, my family and Dumbledore and Remus, but we can only do that if you are willing to admit that you didn't fall down the stairs, that they were the ones that hurt you. If you do that than you won't have to go back there anymore, you can come stay with me, and no one will hurt you anymore, I promise."

"I don't know." He replies and you see a conflicted look pass briefly across his face as he struggles to mask his emotions.

"Think about it, please." You beg, you need him to be okay, and you know that won't happen unless he can get some kind of closure, unless he can live life without having to look over his shoulder wondering whether his parents are going to decide to force him to go back to that hellhole.

"I'm tired." He says finally.

"Okay," You say studiously ignoring the subtle glittering in his gray eyes. "I'll come back later."

"James?" He calls when you're reaching for the door knob on your way out.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome." You reply managing a small smile before leaving the room shutting the door quietly behind you.

**A/N Review, please. I'm not exactly sure how I feel about this chapter, so let me know what you think.**


	16. Padfoot Postulates

**A/N Hello, peoples, I am back with an update! Fast, right? It is brought to you by my 17****th**** birthday. Which I always update for. Lol.**

**Thanks to all Reviewers: Nyxelestia, SWAddict1986, AliceIsLost, and livin and breathin!**

**Dedication: To Keiri Bradon, Happy Birthday!!!**

You can't help but feel that you made a critical mistake trusting James. Well, not trusting him exactly, you'd trust James with your life, you always have. It's more of you're afraid that you made a mistake choosing to confide in him. You suppose that you didn't totally slip up, as you never actually said "my parents are abusing me," so any pensive evidence James could provide would still be flimsy at best. Which means that you can still stick to your story about falling down the stairs; you can still keep quiet about all this.

For someone so popular you really hate the spotlight. You've always liked pulling pranks, and getting attention for them, because that's all in fun. But you've never liked pity, or sympathy, and you know that if you come clean about the…the abuse that has gone on in your house then every where you turn you'll be faced with more pitying eyes and that's the last thing you've ever wanted, ever asked for.

At the same time you're so sick of playing the role of an actor, of the popular, cheerful wizard whose biggest problem is figuring out what girl to go out with next. Deep down you just want to admit that your home life is no picture perfect scene straight out of Witch Weekly.

More than that you think you kind of need help. But you don't know how to ask for help, you've never been good at that. You're smart enough to recognize that James has just thrown you a life-saver, a way out, you can grasp onto it and accept help and maybe just maybe escape the hell that has been your life for the last sixteen years.

You're afraid though, afraid to admit to being afraid if that makes any sense. You're supposed to be brave, courageous a Gryffindor…but you don't feel like a lion, you feel like a scared little kid and you don't know what to do, you wish someone would just tell you what to do. You don't think you've ever felt the lack of real parents as profoundly as you do right now. You wish you were like other kids who could run to their parents for comfort and assurance that the monsters weren't real and that they would go away. But what can you do when your parents _are_ the monsters?

Everyone thinks that you've already done the hardest thing-running away from home. But that wasn't hard not really, that was nothing, nothing in comparison to actually standing up to your family. You took the coward's way out-flight. Talking about your parents' abuse is the real challenge, the real fight.

You feel exhausted, you're sick of fighting; you don't want to have to struggle against your family anymore you just want to be left alone. The last thing you're interested in is an extensive court battle.

You don't want to disappoint anyone though, not Dumbledore or Mr. and Mrs. Potter, and definitely not James. They and Remus and Peter are the only people whose opinions you've ever really cared about. And you feel like they will be disappointed in you if you just give up and resign yourself to living in fear that your parents will force you home for the next year.

Which brings you back to the conversation you just had with James: he's right about your parents; their main obsession is their reputations it always has been. And, it certainly won't look good for them that the heir to the entire Black family ran away from home. There is no way that they can just allow you to run off. Especially not after the family was rocked by scandal last year when Andromeda ran off with Ted Tonks. It was hard enough for them to keep the gossip about Andromeda at bay, and there is no way that they will be able to let you run off. And if that's the truth then you have no choice but to take this case to the Ministry.

You suppose you've always known that you'd never be able to escape your family so easily. Your family is like a python (fitting given their Slytherin heritage) they don't let anyone escape until they've crushed the life out of them. You sigh, you guess it's time to talk to Dumbledore and tell him that you want to press charges against your parents for child abuse. This is going to be a long hard battle, possibly the hardest of your entire life; you can only hope that you'll come out on the other side mostly unscathed.


	17. Remus Ruminates

**A/N Happy New Year! Welcome to the first update (from me) of 2010! Woot!**

**Thanks to all Reviewers!!!! **

**Dedication: to Twinkie for her awesome review, and SWaddict1986, whose suggestion I found utterly hilarious *****blasts name off tapestry* "WE'RE DONE!"**

**Disclaimer: I own nada. :D**

"I'm not going to talk, you know." He tells you flatly. "You can't make me."

You simply level him with the flat, all-knowing, no-nonsense look that always infuriates him and James, and will make you a great teacher, years from now. You've found that silence is sometimes the best way to deal with Sirius, he's great with words, he has a way of spinning the conversation so that you lose track of what you were trying to accomplish in the first place. Silence unnerves him; however, you've found that the best way to make him slip up is to just let him babble his way into a mistake.

"Nothing happened," He continues and looks like he is going to add more when he stops short at the disbelieving expression on your face. "It's _true_." He insists stubbornly, crossing his arms across his chest.

You decide a different tack may be in order. "We're friends, right?" You ask suddenly.

"Of course we are." He scoffs. "Why would you even ask that?"

"That's what _I_ thought, but it seems to me that you'd be able to trust your friends a little bit more. I've trusted you with my biggest secret, a secret which could literally destroy me if it gets out, but you don't trust me? Maybe, I've been wrong all these years to think of us as friends, as brothers…" You know it's a low blow, but at this point you're willing to try anything to get Sirius to concede, and get some help. You don't think you've ever been as scared as when you walked into the Hospital Wing today and you saw how beaten up your friend looked, Madam Pomfrey hadn't healed his injuries all the way, only fixing them up enough that they didn't cause him much pain, as the Ministry representative would need to see them in order to take the complaint seriously.

"You don't understand." He mumbles breaking eye contact with you and looking down at the bed sheets; he begins to trace an abstract pattern on the comforter.

"Try me." You say in reply. He doesn't answer; he continues to look down at the blankets seemingly finding them to be much more interesting than anything you have to say. "Sirius, I know you don't want to do this, I get that, I get that you'd prefer that no one knows about your home life. I know you don't think I understand, but I do. Do you know what it's like to be a werewolf?"

He shakes his head, either in response or in an attempt to block out your words, you're not sure which and you don't pause to find out.

"I have to worry every single day about someone finding out, knowing that when they do they will either look at me with pity or disgust. I hate myself for getting bit by a werewolf, even though I know it wasn't my fault. I know you know about that kind of pain, and more than that I know you think that you can make it go away if you just wish hard enough. But, that doesn't work, you can wish and dream all you want but the only way it's going to get better is if you're willing to come to terms with what's happened to you. I never thought that anyone would want to be my friends or that anyone could accept me for what I am, but than I met you, James, and Peter, and even Dumbledore, and all of you valued me for who I am, and were willing to listen to my problems."

You watch as a spasm of pain flits across his face before it is hidden away behind a blank mask. Sometimes when he does that, when he hides his emotions either through a blank countenance, or smiling features, you want to grab him and shake him until he admits what's wrong.

"I wish you'd let me help you." You say quietly before getting up and walking toward the door on the other end of the wing.

"Fine." He says suddenly just as you reach for the door handle. You turn back around slowly.

"Fine?" You ask.

"I'll do it." He answers.

"Do what?"

"I'll talk to the ministry person; I'll tell them what happened." He answers. You walk back over to his bedside and resume your seat next to him. You look at him and really see him for the first time, despite his blank expression, he looks paler than usual, and you can see that his hands are shaking just a little bit; he's afraid you realize, afraid of his parents, or of telling the truth, or maybe a little bit of both. He looks younger than usual and you wish that you could shield him from this pain, like he and James and Peter have tried to make your transformations better for you. You know that you can't stop him from enduring this struggle against his family, but you think that you might be able to make it a little bit better, and you hope that you will be enough.

**A/N Review! **


	18. Sirius Scrutinizes

**A/N I really, really, really should not be writing this write now, I have five A.P. finals to study for and a ten page paper to write (for which I have no topic). And, yet, I found myself by an inexplicable urge to update this story, so who am I to argue?**

**Thanks to all reviewers!!**

**Dedication: To Bittersweet x for my 100****th**** review!!! :D**

James was playing dirty pure and simple. Calling in Remus was the equivalent of taking out the big guns. Remus has a way of weaseling information out of you that you never intended to tell him in the first place. You knew keeping this whole affair a secret was a lost cause the moment Remus walked through the door and sat down next to your bed.

Of course you gave one last valiant effort to suppress the whole incident, but your efforts sadly had no effect on your no-nonsense friend, who has always been able to see through your ineffectual attempts at lying (this quality has always been what worries you about Remus, the bloke has all the makings of a new McGonagall, you pity his students should he ever go over to _the dark side_ and become a teacher).

You sometimes think that Remus could have a promising career as an interrogator for the auror department, keeping a secret from him is pretty damn near impossible, and your ability to hide just how bad things have been at your house for the past few years is very likely a new world record in lying-to-Remus, soon to be declared an Olympic sport. You and James often like to tell your discerning friend random untruths and see how long it takes him to weasel the truth from you both (seldom does this take him longer than ten minutes).

James is your best friend, but Remus is the one who has the ability to spur you to action, to force honesty from you, which makes Remus infinitely more dangerous. You've officially lost your long-lived battle to hide your family troubles from the eye of the public, Remus has long since left and returned with Dumbledore, who asked you whether you were ready to officially file a complaint. To which you reluctantly replied, "I am."

…The ministry representative is coming tomorrow. He or she is going to question you about the incident, take pictures of your various injuries, question James about the condition he found you in, and interrogate Madame Pomfrey about the nature of your injuries (ie. Were they inflicted by a third party?) . And, assuming after all of this he finds your complaint to be valid, you'll be forced to speak with a Mind-Healer who will determine whether you're fit for the trial. If the healer determines that you are in fact okay for the trial, your parents will be served with a subpoena to present themselves before the Wizengamot (standard procedure in high ranking custodial cases especially those which involve purebloods, apparently if your parents are declared guilty they will be forced to pay reparations to you and you will either be formally emancipated or put in the custody of a different family member).

Remus and James have both promised to attend the trial to serve as moral support (although James would have to attend either way, as he will likely be questioned as a witness during the trial). You think this is probably the hardest thing you've ever been forced to do, testifying against your parents, that is. You've heard that confronting someone who's hurt you is supposed to be cathartic, and all that other rubbish, but you highly doubt you'll feel anything but ashamed and afraid as you're forced to recount everything you've been forced to endure at your parents' hands.

You wish this whole thing could be over, but you still have weeks of torment to endure before you'll finally be free (you refuse to consider the alternative, that you'll be forced back to your parents, although there's a voice in the back of your head taunting you, telling you that there's no way you'll win this fight).

One way or another, this battle will be over within a fortnight. You can only hope that at the end of it you don't find yourself more entrapped than you were at the start. You harbor no illusions about your parents; you know that if you lose this fight, they will force you home if only to prove that your allegations were false, and at that point you will be faced with horrors ten times what you have faced thus far.

**A/N We're starting to get into the real action now, dun, dun, dun! Haha, review and I will update after finals, which are next week. So, maybe next weekend. Oh, and I apologize for the shortness but this chapter is just to set up the upcoming action. **


	19. Melanie Mulls

**A/N Hello, my awesome readers. **

**Thanks to all Reviewers!!!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Dedication: To amazingtofu my newest reviewer.**

Some days you really loathe your job. You're the main ministry representative for abuse cases within pureblood families, and it's rather easy to become disillusioned. By the time you actually get to talk to the complainant either all the evidence has mysteriously disappeared or else the victim has decided to recant, or when you actually get to forward on the complaint to the next step in the massive ministry bureaucracy it often gets thrown out on a technicality. You resent the fact that purebloods gets special treatment, despite your own pureblood heritage (which is part of the reason the ministry hired you in the first place, the majority of upper-class purebloods absolutely refuse to deal with any non-pureblood ministry representative). Although, you are not from one of the upper class British families, you are originally from a middle class family of German wizards.

You arrive at Hogwarts and are immediately ushered from the Entrance Hall by a stern looking witch who introduces herself as Professor Minerva McGonagall, head of Gryffindor house. She leads the way to the Headmaster's office and leaves you in the room with him, after informing you that she will go and make sure that Mr. Black is awake.

"Miss Futzman," Albus Dumbledore immediately rises from his seat and extends his hand for you to shake.

"Please, call me Melanie." You reply automatically before briskly moving onto business. "How about you share your account of the events which took place on July 18th of this year? And, then I can go interview Mr. Black, and the other witnesses, which include Mr. Charlus Potter, Mrs. Dorea Potter, Mr. James Potter, Professor Minerva McGonagall, and Madam Poppy Pomfrey. is that correct?"

"As far as those assembled at Hogwarts are concerned." Dumbledore replied.

"What do you mean?" You ask immediately.

"I believe his brother, Regulus witnessed the latest round of abuse, and probably earlier ones as well. On that note you'd probably find it profitable to interview his cousins who include Bellatrix Lestrange, Narcissa Black, and Andromeda Tonks. However, you will have problems getting Bellatrix and Narcissa to cooperate. And, I highly doubt that Sirius and Regulus' parents will be keen to allow you to interview them."

You wave his concern in that regard away. "Assuming that the complaint is ruled valid, I will issue subpoenas for all relevant parties, and they will be questioned with Vertiserum. Now, could you please recount for me the events which occurred when Mr. Black arrived on July 19th of this year?" You continue, redirecting his focus to the proper avenues. As you wait for him to respond you pull out a bottle of ink, a quill, and several rolls of parchment.

"Of course." The headmaster replies obligingly. "Mr. Potter arrived at Hogwarts..."

"That would be Mr. James Potter, correct?" You question him as you tap the top of your quill with your wand directing it to copy down the dialogue exactly as it is said.

"Yes. Mr. James Potter arrived in the company of his parents, Dorea and Charlus Potter and Mr. Sirius Black. Sirius was unconscious at the time."

"And, how did Mr. Black appear to you?" You prompt as Dumbledore appears momentarily abstracted, seemingly caught up in the memories of the day.

"He was unwell to say the least. His arm was broken, he was bleeding in several locations, he bore unmistakable signs of having undergone the Cruciatus Curse." Dumbledore replied his voice deceptively mild, although there was a sort of crackling energy in the air that told you he was deeply troubled by the recent events which had occurred.

"Around what time was it when Mr. Black arrived here?" You ask for the purposes of the official record.

"It was shortly after midnight on the 19th of July."

"You questioned Mr. Black upon his regaining consciousness, is that correct?"

"Yes. I informed him of Madam Pomfrey's diagnosis..."

"Which was?" You interrupt briskly.

"She diagnosed signs of prolonged exposure to the Cruciatus Curse as well as several other spells, which she believed to have been a result of abuse. Madam Pomfrey reported her concerns to me, and I went to speak to Mr. Black." He affirmed, taking your interruption without pause.

"And, how did Mr. Black respond?"

"He said that no one had abused him, and hastened to assure me that he quote 'fell down the stairs,' unquote."

"At any point while you were questioning him on the 19th of July, did he change his story?"

"No, although he did seem panicked when I informed him that I would be reporting my suspicions of abuse to the Ministry with or without his corroboration." Dumbledore replied.

"Very good. Thank you for your cooperation, Headmaster, now if you could just review this parchment and sign it, confirming your statement." You conclude handing him the role of parchment and the quill. Dumbledore scans the document and signs his name on the line at the bottom after verifying its accuracy. "Now, I need to interview the Potters, Madam Pomfrey, Professor McGonagall, and Mr. Remus Lupin. Is there a place I could meet with them?" You ask beginning to pack up your interview equipment.

"You may use the staff room, I will take you there now, and send for them. Who would you like to speak with first?" He asked.

"I will start with Professor McGonagall." You reply after considering it for a few moments. Her interview should be relatively short, as you only intend to question her about the most recent events. During the trial she will likely be called to testify about her observations of Sirius throughout his tenor as a member of Gryffindor house and one of her students, but for these preliminary proceedings you do not need that information. From your understanding of the events so far, it doesn't seem like she had much to do with the recent occurrences.

"Excellent, I shall fetch her as soon as I deposit you in the staff room." Dumbledore replies leading the way out of his office toward the staff room. He lets you in and leaves to go find McGonagall. You take a seat at the table and wait for the professor to arrive. As you wait you muse over the preliminary findings in the case so far. It seems that Orion and Walburga Black had inflicted some serious abuse on their eldest son, you've never understood how people could treat their own children the way some of these families do. As a representative of the ministry you are supposed to remain impartial, but you cannot help but sympathize with this poor child, because he is a child really, who was thrust into what appears to be a rather abysmal home life without any provocation or justification. Further thinking on the subject is cut off then as McGonagall enters the room, seating herself across from you at the long staff table. McGonagall strikes you as a no-nonsense type of person, so you jump straight into the topic at hand, without wasting time on useless pleasantries.

"Were you present when Mr. Sirius Black arrived at Hogwarts early on the 19th of July?"

"Yes." She replies curtly.

"What did you notice on that day?"

"Mr. Black appeared severely injured, worse than I've ever seen him." She replies.

"Does Mr. Black injure himself frequently?" You inquire.

"Often enough." She replies evenly.

"That being said, do you believe his complaint to be valid? He isn't just crying abuse to get attention?" You hate to ask this, but you know you have to.

"I'm quite sure that it is." Her nostrils flair at your words and you can tell that she is angry you would even suggest such a thing. Sirius Black is clearly one of her favorite students. "He gets injured often, don't get me wrong. Sometimes it's due to Quidditch, he's a beater for our house team, sometimes as a result of prank gone wrong, sometimes due to a fight with his cousins, and sometimes, usually after a break from school, due to what I am quite certain is abuse on the part of his parents."

"The Wizengamot will call on you to detail your observations of Mr. Black farther, if his complaint reaches the trial stage." You inform her.

"Of course." She answers briskly. "Is there anything further?"

"No. We're done for now." You reply and hand her the paper to sign and verify. "Could you please fetch Mr. Charlus Potter? I should like to question him directly."

"I will send him here at once." She replies.

"Thank you." You reply as she heads out the door closing the door with a decisive click behind her.

Charlus Potter enters the room less than five minutes later and seats himself in the chair which McGonagall had left vacant. "Good day." He greats you extending his hand to you across the table.

"I wish we were meeting under pleasanter circumstances." You reply as you place you quill on a new roll of parchment.

"Now, could you please detail for me the events of July 19th as you recall them?"

"Of course. Dorea and I had just gone to bed, when James burst into our room shortly after midnight on the 19th, he was shouting something about Sirius being injured, so Dorea and I immediately followed him downstairs. We found Sirius unconscious, and clearly in a lot of pain, we've seen him injured before of course, and we've long suspected that his parents have been abusing him but I can't recall ever seeing him so out of it. We were initially going to bring him to St. Mungo's, but he refused, saying that they would make him go back to his parents, so we agreed to take him to Hogwarts, once we arrived there we were escorted by Professor Dumbledore to the Hospital Wing. Sirius was treated my Madam Pomfrey and regained consciousness later on that day."

"Did Sirius admit to you that his parents had been responsible for his injuries?" You ask.

"No. He didn't. Although, I didn't get much chance to speak to him, my wife Dorea came pretty close to getting him to admit to what happened, but then he shut down, and my son, James, apparently almost succeeded as well, but then Sirius refused to say anything to Dumbledore. Finally, James wrote their other good friend, Remus who arrived yesterday, and was not here for thirty minutes before he had managed to extricate the truth from Sirius." Charlus elaborated.

"Thank you for your assistance." You reply handing him the roll of parchment to sign. He does so and you dismiss him after asking him to send his wife in next.

Mrs. Potter soon arrives and the two of you exchange brief greetings before you direct the proceedings to the incident in question. "Now, on the 19th of July, Mr. Black arrived at your house barely conscious and heavily injured, correct?" You ask going off the details of Mr. Potter's statement.

"Yes." She replies.

"Is it also true that he became agitated at the thought of returning to his parents?" You prompt.

"Yes, it is."

"Alright, now that we've established those details, can you please elaborate to me on the discussion you had with Mr. Black upon his regaining consciousness?"

"I told him that I knew he was lying about falling down the stairs, and he couldn't fool me. I was a Black once, you know? Before I was a Potter." She asks.

"I am aware of that." You reply. You know all the details of the pureblood family trees, you make it your business to know.

"Anyway, I also told him about by squib brother, Marius. I told Sirius about how my brother had disappeared one day while I was staying with some relatives, and how when I came back my Mother told me that I only had one brother now." She says softly. "I never did find out what happened to Marius, and I'm not sure I want to." She continues. "He told me he was sorry. Sirius is usually sorry, although seldom for anything that is actually his fault."

"Interesting." You reply carefully, clinically, you're careful not to let your abhorrence for the Black family show on your face. "Now, did Mr. Black ever actually admit the abuse to you?"

"No." She admits. "I told him to think about what I said, and I left when it didn't seem like he was going to say anything else. My son James went in to talk to him after that."

"Thank you, if you could please read over this statement and sign it, I would be much obliged to you, it is of course spelled for truthfulness, so if any part of your story was a lie the paper would turn black." You explain. She dutifully signs her name on the parchment and hands it back to you. "Could you please send in your son next?"

"Of course." She replies.

"It's James, right?" You ask when he enters the room, more for the sake of breaking the ice than anything else. You know you're looking at James Potter the moment he enters the room, his hair is the same as every Potter male for several generations, and you can tell by the guarded and stressed out expression on his face that he is clearly Sirius' best friend.

"Yes." He replies curtly, almost hostility. It's clear that he thinks you're not going to believe his friend.

"We're going to discuss what you remember from July 18th and 19th of this year, all right?" You ask.

"Sure. What do you want to know?"

"When did you become concerned for Sirius' welfare?"

"When we were five." James replied.

"I meant recently, you'll be asked about further past events at the trial, for now we just want to see if there is enough evidence to substantiate Mr. Black's current claim." You clarify.

"I hadn't heard from Sirius much this summer, he usually spends the holiday's with my family. His parents don't want him around much since he 'disgraced them' by becoming a Gryffindor." He clenches his fists to keep his hands from shaking. "At the start of the summer he sent me a letter saying that 'things are bad. don't contact me.'"

"Do you have the letter?" You interrupt, eager for further evidence to support Sirius' story.

"Yeah. It's at my house somewhere, I could find it for you?" He offers.

"That would be a great help, but for now let's get back to your story."

"He left his owl, Isis at my house after that. Seemed to be worried his parents would take her away or something. I got worried by the lack of information, and I tried contacting him another way..."

"How?" You prompt.

"I have these family heirlooms, they're two mirrors, and if you look into one and say the name of the person possessing the other one than it will allow you to hold a conversation with him. Sirius had the mirror on his bed. The room was empty at first, I could here shouting and this awful pained yelling that I knew was Sirius. After a few minutes, I heard the door to his room open, Sirius came in. A couple minutes later and his brother followed him in. Sirius begged him to go away, he sounded really bad off. I heard Regulus ask him if he could get out on his own, and Sirius told him he'd be okay. Then Sirius shoved the mirror into his trunk and I didn't learn anything else until he arrived at my house." James pauses here, clearly lost in his own horrified recollections of the night. "At sometime shortly after midnight my doorbell rang, and I answered it, and first I didn't see anyone and then I looked down-and Merlin-he was just lying there, hardly conscious looking half-dead. For a few moments I was afraid he was dead." James admitted in a broken whisper. "I carried him into the house and laid him down on the couch before running for my parents. They came downstairs and we took him to Hogwarts when Sirius refused to go to St. Mungo's."

"You're doing great so far, James." You encourage him. "Now, I understand from your parents that you tried to convince Sirius to file a complaint a few days ago, can you tell me about the conversation you had with him?"

"I was so ready to be angry at him, when I walked into that room, and then do you know what he did?" James asked incredulously.

"What?"

"He told me that he was _SORRY_. He was _sorry_. And, after that it was pretty impossible to be angry at him anymore. You'll understand when you meet him, it's damn near impossible to be angry with him, although his parents have been doing a bang up job of it." James said with an angry snort. "I told him that I didn't believe that he fell down the stairs, he said that there was no way that I could prove it, not that I was wrong, no, he said that I couldn't prove anything. Can you believe that?"

You can believe it, actually. That type of mentality is fairly common among abuse victims. You don't say this however, instead you just wait for him to continue speaking.

"I told him that there was no way his parents would give up on him, it'd create too much scandal, you know? Especially after Andromeda running off last year..."

You know all about the issues regarding Andromeda Tonks nee Black, it's a little known fact that the Black family attempted to have her forced home, but short of having her declared insane (which they attempted), there was nothing they could do, as she was a legal adult.

"Anyway, he told me that he was..."

"He was what?" You ask softly.

"I feel like I'm betraying his confidence by telling you this." James admitted.

"You're helping him, James. He needs your help, he filed the complaint with full knowledge of what the proceedings would entail, he knows that we'd have to question you."

"...He told me that he was afraid, afraid of his parents, of being forced to go back and live with them again." James answered after a long pause. "You _have_ to help him. He's my best friend. I don't want to see him get hurt any more. He needs help. _Please_." James didn't say please often, but he knew that Sirius needed assistance. "He wouldn't commit fully to filing the complaint, but I got him to think it over. I told him that Remus was coming."

"Remus Lupin?" You ask.

"Yes. Remus has a way of weaseling information out of people, I knew that he had the best chance of getting Sirius to tell the truth." James replied.

"Thank you for your time, James. Will you please read over your statement and verify that it is correct, before signing it?"

"Yes." He answered taking the parchment and scrawling his name in the marked off space.

"Could you please send in Mr. Lupin, next?" You ask once he hands the paper back to you.

"Of course." He says and heads toward the door. "Help him." He repeats one last time before leaving.

"I'll try." You whisper so softly you're not sure whether he actually heard you.

"Remus, is it?" You ask by way of greeting when the boy enters the room.

"Yes." Remus answers politely. "It's nice to meet you." He claims, although you're not at all certain he's not lying just to be polite. It seems like something this boy would do, and it's been your experience that the people you interview are rarely very keen on the ministry.

"And, you as well." You reply courteously. "Now, I'm sure you know that we are here to discuss Mr. Black's home situation?"

"Yes." He replies cautiously, not giving away anything.

"I understand that you're the one who got Sirius to open up, is that correct?"

"Not exactly." Remus answers.

"Care to elaborate?" You can tell by the look on his face that he is tempted to say no, but you know he won't.

"I got him to agree to talk to you, to file a claim against his parents. He never actually supplied me with the details of his home life. Sirius has always been guarded in that respect. Also...I think that he thinks he's burdening other people when he tells them about his problems, and he doesn't like pity, do try to avoid that when you speak to him, won't you?" Remus asks.

"Of course." You readily acquiescence. "Why don't you just tell me what the two of you discussed?" He pauses and you can tell that he's trying to decide what to tell you. This boy obviously has something he wants to keep hidden.

"I asked him whether we were friends, I told him that I had always thought of him as a friend, my best friend, but obviously he didn't feel the same way because he wouldn't open up to me. I played on his guilt." Remus admits quietly, clearly feeling terrible about his manipulations. "I reminded him of some of my own problems, and how he had helped me, and I asked him why he wouldn't let me return the favor. And, then I got ready to leave."

"You left?"

"No. I never actually intended to." He admits.

"What exactly were you trying to do?" You ask quietly.

"Sirius doesn't do well with three things guilt, silence, and pity. If you pity him he'll just shut down, if you're silent he sometimes will babble his way into telling you something he never meant to, and if you guilt him he'll pretty much capitulate immediately." Remus observed. "I try to avoid manipulating my friends, but I felt the benefits in this case out weighed the harms. He thought..." He trails off abruptly staring off into space as though recalling a memory.

"Thought what?" You ask.

"He thought I was angry with him, for not trusting me, but I never get mad at him, not really, and when he thought I was going to leave he was willing to do anything-even report his family-to stop me from being mad at him or disappointed with him. I wouldn't have done it if I didn't think he needed help."

"You seem to understand him very well." You observe.

"I suppose I do." Remus acknowledged. "But he knows me just as well. Is that everything?" He continued.

"Yes." You answer. "If you could just sign this..."

"Of course." He signs the paper and hands it neatly back to you before heading to the door and mumbling a goodbye on his way out. You pause a few moments longer considering the interviews you've conducted so far, before following him out the door. You still need to interview Madam Pomfrey, and Sirius Black himself. You figure it will be best to interview them both in the hospital wing. After that you need to return to the Ministry and compile your report and recommendation.

**A/N Review. I shall try to get this updated soon, however I must caution that we are now progressing into AP season, as well as Debate State Part II, and Debate Nationals, meaning that I shall be very swamped. However, this is one of my favorite stories to update so I will see to it that this gets updated fairly frequently. **


	20. Sirius Surrenders

**A/N Hello, my lovely readers, I have returned with an update, we are so moving toward the resolution of this story, slowly but surely. **

**Thanks to all Reviewers!**

**Dedication: To NymphadoraTonkswithorangehair, because she made my review count 123. :P**

**Disclaimer: I own nada.**

You sit up in the hospital bed, your spine so ramrod straight that your comportment tutor would have wept tears of joy had she actually been capable of emotional displays...well, internal tears then. You've consented to speak with this ministry woman, but you never said that you would go about acting like some Hufflepuff first year.

When the witch enters the room she introduces herself as Melanie Futzman and you shake her hand and laughingly tell her that you would have stood up to greet her but Poppy has expressly forbid you to on pain of refusing to medically clear you to play Quidditch the next year.

"That is quite all right, Mr. Black." She says looking vaguely horrified at the idea of you exerting any sort of effort, you would think she had seen people in worse condition than this before, hell you've been in worse condition than this before, although you understand from James that your face is a lovely array of technicolor bruises. "Now, if you would be so kind as to recount for me the events of July 18th and 19th as you remember them?"

Your face changes from mildly amused to stony, and she can visibly see your eyes flash a tumultuous silver, you really do not want to do this, despite your misgivings, you begin to speak in a flat, detached voice, "This summer had been worse than usual, and on that day..."

"Which day?" She asks, not because she doesn't know the date but because she needs the record to be very specific for the transcript that she is going to turn in to the Pureblood division of the Department of Wizarding Family Affairs.

"The 18th of July." You say, and then you pause again, you really wish she hadn't interrupted you, it's hard enough for you to voice this story without interjections and you don't want to have to repeat yourself. "Kreacher, our house elf came to my room and told me that my parents wanted to see me, so I went down to the drawing room,"

"You're doing great, keep going." Futzman reassures you. You pause for a few moments trying to organize your thoughts about that particular evening.

"We have this tapestry, you know? I guess a lot of purebloods probably have them, it's a family tree of the Black Family. Every member's names are supposed to be on it, except that my dear mum blasts the names of so-called unworthy family members off it." Your voice sounds bitter even to your own ears. "The tapestry has these great big scorch marks in different places, like where my cousin Andromeda's name used to be."

"She ran away with Ted Tonks, right?" Her voice sounds almost curious, although you assume that she probably already knows most of these details.

"Yeah. She did. They tried to have her declared insane, did you know that?" You don't wait for her answer before continuing. "Yep, they wanted her to be declared incompetent so that the marriage could be invalidated, she brought quite a bit of shame to the family name...because nothing says embarrassing like marrying for love, and tolerance, and all that other baloney." You bite out in a sarcastic tone. "Anyway, when I got to the drawing room, Mother grabbed my face and she made me look at the tapestry and she said, 'You're the heir to centuries of pureblooded wizards and witches; your behavior has been unacceptable as of yet and we'll not stand for it any longer,' and then she told me that I was to swear my allegiance to her precious Voldemort. I said no. She didn't take that very well." This is possibly the largest understatement you've ever uttered. But, then you've always preferred exaggeration to understatement, well in most areas, except when discussing your family, where down-playing is your favorite practice. "So, then she sat down and turned to my younger brother Regulus, and she tells him to watch, she says that this is what happens when you betray the _Most Noble and Ancient House of Black_." Your disdain for your ancestry is clear from the look on your face as you repeat her words.

"What happened after that, Sirius?"

"Then my father got up and he came over and he decided to _persuade_ me, of course his preferred method of persuasion is the Cruciatis Curse. Then he cast the full-body bind on me and started to hit me with curse after curse, I'm really not sure what all of them were, I just know that it hurt." You admit in a small voice. "The he decided to really twist my arm to make me agree." You always did like puns. Siriusly. "He cast this spell that made my arm bend backwards until it broke."

She winces sympathetically, and you scowl at her because you hate sympathy. "Then what happened?"

"My parents left me there, laying on the floor, dripping blood on their precious family heirlooms. Reggie helped me to my room, I didn't want him to though, and I told him to go away, he stayed though, and we packed my stuff up and he got my wand for me, and I snuck out of the house later on that night. I finally passed out, right outside James' door. And, then I woke up here." You conclude succinctly.

"Where you spoke with Professor Dumbledore, Mrs. Potter, Mr. James Potter, and finally Mr. Remus Lupin, the last of which managing to convince you to talk with me, correct?"

"Yes." You reply.

"Good, now here is your statement I need you to sign it, and then you also need to sign this paper indicating that you are filing a formal complaint, okay?"

You take a deep breath, this is it, the moment of no return, after this it will be to late to turn back. You accept the quill from her with shaking hands and inscribe Sirius Orion Black on the indicated spaces in your strangely elegant handwriting.

"If the ministry considers your complaint to be valid, you will be contacted within the next week with further information." She rises from her seat and offers you here hand to shake, you do so, and she wishes you a good day before heading across the Hospital Wing to Poppy's office, her final interview for the day.

You watch as she disappears from sight and you are seized by the desire to chase after her and tell her that this is all just a mistake. More than anything else you wish this could be over. You just want this to end. You pull the hangings of the bed shut around you, blocking you from view, and you sit perfectly still for several minutes staring at the curtains blankly.

**A/N I will be updating next Sunday in accordance with my new review schedule.**


	21. Poppy Ponders

**A/N Hello, my lovely reviewers! I have returned with an update on the actual assigned date.**

**Thanks to all reviewers!**

**Dedication: To Twinkie, for her lovely review.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing!**

You bustle over to your office door, upon hearing a knock, which you are fairly certain can only be the ministry representative here to interview Sirius. "Come in," you greet the woman and wave her into the room, motioning for her to take a seat in front of your desk, you take your own spot behind the piece of furniture.

"It's nice to meet you, I wish we could have met on more pleasant terms." The woman, who introduced herself to you as Melanie Futzman announces.

You agree and wait for her to get down to business. You have never been one for fooling around, which is perhaps why you have always gotten on well with Minerva McGonnagall who is in fact your closest friend.

"Can you please recount for me the events of July 19th as you remember them?" She requests politely.

"I was here at Hogwarts, organizing potions, when Sirius Black arrived in the company of the Potters and Headmaster Dumbledore." You begin. A pained expression crosses your face as you think about Sirius, who is one of your favorite students, he is also one of your most frequent 'guests' in the hospital wing. Either from a prank gone awry, or a Quidditch accident, and often after a break from school, suffering from 'accidental injuries.'

"Continue, please." Futzman prompts when you pause too long lost in your own thoughts.

"I proceeded to partially heal his injuries, and take pictures of them." You answer levelly despite the disgust you're feeling as you think about Sirius' parents. It is beyond you how they can treat their own child in such a way.

"Do you have the pictures?" She inquires, and you hand her a folder containing the pictures. You see a look of horror flicker in her eyes at the images of Sirius as he had appeared that night. His face had been completely swollen and bruised, his arm bent at an unnatural angle, and he was bleeding from various locations. "What was your diagnosis?" She asked finally.

"He showed clear signs of having undergone the Cruciatus curse as well as other spells, his wounds were clearly not the result of an accident." You state, making it obvious that there is absolutely no chance that Sirius' parents had not been responsible. "He displayed many of the typical signs of an abuse victim. He was evasive, said it was his fault, refused to talk to his visitors." Your eyes take on a far away look as you consider how small and vulnerable your most boisterous student looked that night. It made you realize that he was still just a child really for all his grand-standing, and no child deserves to suffer the way Sirius has.

"Thank you for your time, could you please sign here confirming your statement." She requested. You dutifully sign your name 'Poppy Pomfrey' in the indicated place. You may be called upon to testify int he event this case reaches the trial point." Futzman remarks rising to leave as she collects the signed sheet of parchment from you

"He has a lot of people who care about him you know." You remark before you can stop yourself. "His parents may not, but we do. Sirius Black does not lie, don't allow his parents' political clout to cloud your decision making abilities." You know you're probably crossing a line saying this to a ministry employee, but you can't bring yourself to care. You just want to make sure that Sirius gets justice for once in his life. He deserves that, more than anyone you know.

Melanie doesn't seem annoyed however, in fact she smiles softly and says, "I know. I'll do everything I can for him." It's not a guarantee, but it is as close as you are going to get.

"Thank you." You say briskly as she leaves the room. It's not often that you let your emotions show, but you've grown quite close to Sirius over his time at Hogwarts. He is one of the most loyal and accepting students you know, he has been a good friend to Remus standing by him through everything and making it clear that he saw him no differently due to his lycanthropy. You have seen Sirius try to take care of everyone close to him from the day he walked through the castle doors with little thought of himself, and you think it's about time that someone takes care of him.

You will see to it that he never returns home to those sorry excuse for parents, ever again.

**A/N Review! o.O I don't think this is the best story to be updating for Father's Day. :P Next chapter will be posted next Sunday.**


	22. Padfoot Puzles

**A/N Hello, everyone. Huge apologies for the late updating. I'm currently on vacation in Florida which as caused significant delays. I will try to update once a week still though.**

**Thanks to all Reviewers!**

**Dedication: to the Glowing Mischief who reviewed not once but twice. ;) **

**Disclaimer: I own nada.**

You're being released today. Now that the ministry representative, Melanie Futzman, as she had introduced herself, has been here Pomfrey was able to heal all of your injuries so they are little more than a memory.

But they are so much more than that. You don't think anyone really understands how much more than that they are. It's not so simple as a healing charm waving away the pain that night caused. Because of course what you felt that day goes beyond simple physical hurt.

But you're used to pain physical and otherwise. It's a natural result of having been raised as you were. That doesn't make it okay...just expected.

You aren't looking forward to the next five days, _twenty-two hours, thirty seven minutes, and fifteen...fourteen...thirteen seconds _until the Ministry alerts you to their final decision. You're going to be staying with James' parents for the time being. An emergency custody agreement has been granted, placing you in their care until such time as a decision has been made.

You wonder if your parents know, if they even care. You assume they must. After all, it will hardly look good when your mother goes to tea with the Malfoys and the main topic of discussion is how you've been taken away.

Everyone's been hovering over you, each in their own ways.

Dumbledore made a point of stopping by earlier this morning and relating a seemingly random story about how he had once lost his copy of The Tales of the Beedle and the Bard, and everyone kept telling him to just buy a new copy, a better copy, one that didn't have tea stains across half the book, but he had said that he couldn't just replace it no matter how faulty it had been.

You think there was a message in their somewhere. You don't care to look for it. Instead you savagely bit the head off one of the chocolate frog's Remus had brought you and suggested that he try a summoning charm.

Mrs. Potter went back to her house and returned with new clothes for you along with a tin of your favorite fudge. She then sat next to your bed explaining the technique to making said fudge in excruciating detail presumably with the goal of keeping your mind off upcoming events.

You nodded absently in reply to her long-winded dialogue while lost in thought wondering whether Regulus was implicated in your escape and whether your parents are mad at him. Probably not.

Mr. Potter simply sat next to your bed with a copy of the Daily Prophet, he gave you the crossword to do, which you worked on for a while. Until the clue for nine across yielded the answer 'black,' and you were caught up in a swarm of Toujours Pur, practically royalty, swearing allegiance, family trees with blast marks like cigarette burns...

You pled tiredness and shoved the crossword aside.

Remus is the worst one, because his hovering is straight out hovering. He doesn't attempt subtlety. He tries to get you to talk about it. He asks you about your parents, about your feelings, your expectations.

You tell him you don't want to talk about it.

He listens to you but spends the next several minutes staring at you as though you're going to shatter into millions of tiny, breakable pieces. You glare at him. You're stronger than that. At least you hope you are.

After Remus steps out of the room presumably to avoid an argument or something of the sort, James comes in accompanied by a Wizarding Chess Set. You begin to play with him silently, no conversation needed. You've never been good at this game, lacking subtlety and preferring the more straight-forward sort of approach. It doesn't help that as you look down at the game pieces who have begun to shout advice at you, you can't help but think about how you are little more than a pawn for your parents to prod as they choose.

You don't want to be a pawn.

Pomfrey shoos them all out after you finish losing spectacularly at chess to James. You are grateful to her for that. She understands your need to be alone. To think. She said that you could go home with the potters in a few more hours, and you will. But you know that it will be strange then, as though you are living your life on borrowed time as you wait for the other shoe to drop, wait for the Ministry to make its decision.

_Five days, eighteen hours, twenty-one minutes, forty-six seconds._

You've gotten to know the school nurse well over the course of your Hogwarts career thus far. You first made her acquaintance the second day of term during first year when Bellatrix and some of her friends decided to administer the punishment you were due for disgracing the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black. She fixed you up and even gave you some chocolate before sending you back to class.

You were always grateful for that. You like her stern, efficient attitude, she reminds you of McGonnagall who is perhaps your favorite teacher. Which isn't all that shocking considering that the two are actually close friends as you know from the time that you broke into McGonnagall's office and replaced her wand with a fake one just to prove that you could and were forced to hide under her desk when she walked in with Pomfrey and the two sat down to tea and ginger biscuits (in case anyone was wondering they totally didn't catch you).

You like how she is one of the only people who has not changed her behavior towards you one iota since finding out what happened at your house. She has behaved in exactly the same way. No pity. You can tell she's concerned, but Pomfrey is always concerned about you students. She still treats you the same way she always has. This means more to you than anything else. You want more than anything else for people to see you as you are, and not let your home life color their perception of you.

You fear that the upcoming trial will not help that goal.

_Five days, eighteen hours, fifteen minutes, fifty-seven seconds..._

** A/N Review. If I get reviews right away we might even meet the Sunday update that is supposed to occur. ;)**


	23. Prongs Projects

**A/N Hello my lovely readers. I utterly love you all, especially the ten of you who reviewed the last chapter. ;) I apologize for the slight lateness of this update. And the cliffhanger that I warn you in advance that this chapter will end with. Bwhahaha. I suppose the evil laughter doesn't make me sound especially contrite? Ah, well, at least I tried.**

**Thanks to all Reviewers!**

**Dedication: To SWaddict1986 for her wonderful review. :D**

**Disclaimer: I own nada. ;)**

You haven't seen much of Sirius since he returned from the Hospital Wing, this may seem odd because he is staying at your house. However, practically the moment he walked through the door, he was making up excuses to retreat from sight, the first night he said he was tired. Your parents, your mum especially, immediately ushered him off to bed.

They set aside the room next door to yours, with a connecting bathroom, to be his room. During his previous stays he had usually slept in your room, not because you didn't have the room for him, but because he had insisted it felt awkward to have his own room when he was a guest.

Your mum had insisted that he have his own room now, as he would soon be moving in with him. She either doesn't notice or chooses to ignore the disbelieving expression that crosses his face when she says that, you suspect the latter. She promises that after the trial he can remodel the room however he likes, they'll go shopping, get whatever decorations he wants to make it seem like home. Sirius had quietly thanked her, his features carefully schooled into his best Black family mask, and then he had retreated into the room, presumably to sleep.

You know that's not what he was doing though, because you watched through your window as he climbed out the window next door and took of across the grounds, in search of something, you're not sure what though.

You didn't go after him. Didn't think he'd want you to, although you wanted to go after him, to comfort your friend and assure him that everything would be alright, that it would work out for the best.

The second day, he slept through breakfast, or seemed to because your knocks on his door yielded no response. You doubt he was sleeping though, Sirius was a notoriously early riser, and usually took a sadistic joy out of tormenting the rest of you who didn't achieve full functioning until much later on in the day.

He would have skipped lunch as well if your mum had not gone upstairs and ordered him downstairs for the meal. He had picked at his sandwich without interest, before retreating back to his room. You were going to go after him then, but your mum stopped you, telling you to let him cope in his own way.

You thought that was a rubbish suggestion, leaving Sirius alone with his particular thoughts is not anything that you find advisable. You know him, he's your best friend, and you know that his thoughts probably consist of a series of increasingly pessimistic notions about how he is going to be sent back to his family and then face even worse situations than he had previously. You are no optimist, as your Quidditch team can attest to, as you spend the time prior to each match making increasingly dire predictions about the doom that awaits (you almost always win despite these ominous predictions). Despite this you have faith that not even the most corrupt ministry official can hear testimony about what Orion and Walburga Black have put Sirius through and send him back with them.

This is not optimism, this is common sense.

You know Sirius doesn't see it that way. Despite your vociferous attempts to persuade him to the contrary.

On the third day, Remus arrived at your house; he had needed to stop home to get his school books and clothes, and had promised to come to the Potter Manor as soon as possible. The two of you forcibly dragged Sirius from his room that day, and decided to get his mind off things by playing Quidditch. Remus even consented to play if only for the sake of helping Sirius. Remus was not the best flyer, nor all that fond of Quidditch, a fact that consistently puzzled his two friends.

Sirius is so distracted that despite being one of the best beaters in the school's history, he gets hit in the stomach by a bludger, and barely manages to stay on his broom. Your mother who is proficient in basic healing patches him up and forbids you from further Quidditch for the time being, which you know means until after the trial, when Sirius is less distracted.

The forth day is maybe the worst, because on the fourth day he pastes on that irritating smile of his, which you know is fake, but looks so real, that you could almost believe that he's fine, but you know better. He spends the day discussing pranks that you all need to pull off next year, and absolutely refuses to admit that anything is bothering him. You're worried about him, you know he's not okay.

It's the fifth day now; the day that the Ministry is due to report back on its decision. You haven't seen Sirius all day, neither has Remus. The two of you had gone into his room early this morning planning to retrieve him and spend the day distracting him until the ministry sent its decision via Owl Post. This plan failed epically due to the fact that you had found his room to be quite empty. You scoured the house looking for him, and still have not managed to find him.

Which is probably because he doesn't want to be found. Sirius is very good at hiding. If he doesn't want to be found, he won't be, a fact that has confounded you for years. You and Remus are currently seated in Sirius' room, figuring that when he returns from wherever he is hiding it will be where he returns to.

You really hate waiting. You know that he does as well.

An official looking owl flies through the window with a envelope bearing the Ministry's seal attached to its leg. You and Remus both stare at it, wondering what the letter says, wondering where Sirius is, and wondering if you should take the letter from the owl.

The answers to all these questions look to be arriving shortly, because the door to the room bangs open rebounding back from the wall with a loud thud. Sirius walks in spots the owl, turns dead white and grips the wall for support, taking in a few deep breaths before making his way over to the owl which holds out its leg for Sirius to retrieve the letter. He clutches the letter in one hand and brings the owl over to his owl, Isis' cage, allowing into perch on his other arm. Isis dutifully scoots over to make room for the other owl after nipping her master affectionately on the finger in greeting.

The owl flies away after only a few minutes rest. Sirius stares down at the letter; you can see that his hands are shaking lightly. You and Remus watch silently waiting for him to open it when he chooses. Evidently he chooses not to, or at least not to open it in front of you because he takes the letter and retreats from the room.

**A/N Review! Update should be next Sunday. Then we will all find out what happens. Of course I already know what happens...:P**


	24. Sirius Stews

**A/N Hello readers of the only story I update on time. I have missed you all over the past week. **

**Thanks to all Reviewers!**

**Dedication: To Nyxelestia for her review. :)**

**Disclaimer: I own nada.**

You've been sitting here for over two hours, staring down at the letter clenched tightly in your hands; it is a simple envelope, decidedly plain for something that will determine your fate. The front says simply, Mr. Sirius Black, Potter Manor. The back has the Ministry's official seal on it. You wonder what it says.

You know you should open it. But you can't, because you've done something that you never wanted to do, you've allowed yourself to hope, just a little bit, to think that maybe you won't have to return to Number 12 Grimwauld Place, and now that you've allowed yourself to hope you can't bear the thought of opening the envelope and finding that your hopes were all for nothing, that you have to return immediatly to your parents, or be dragged there.

So, you've been sitting here for two hours afraid to open it and afraid not to. You're surprised neither Remus or James has come after you yet, you thought for sure they would have followed you as soon as you left the room. Of course there's always the chance that they just can't find you, which is of course possible given that you're currently seated on top of a flat portion of roof atop the Potter Manor, having flown up there on your broom.

You'll open it in ten minutes you decide. In ten minutes, you'll be able to muster up the courage to open it.

Yes, definitely in ten minutes.

Eleven minutes later you still haven't moved an inch and the envelope remains clutched tightly in your hands. You wonder how long it will take before you are able to coax yourself into opening the envelope. You've never been one for surprises, preferring the known evil, to the unknown one. But for once you think that maybe all those people who say that ignorance is bliss are correct, that it's better to not know than to know.

...or maybe you're just being ridiculous.

You know you're going to have to face the contents of the letter one way or another, and prolonging the experience isn't going to change that. You're beginning to wish that your friends had come after you. You could use some advice for once.

There's a flowered tree that overhangs the roof, and you reach out to snag a blossom off it. Feeling rather like a preteen girl, you resort to pulling petals off the flower, "Open it. Don't open it. Open it. Don't Open it."

You snag another flower, and do it again: "Open it. Don't Open it. Open it. Don't Open it. Open it." Maybe you'll just do it once more. Or twice...

"Don't take this the wrong way, mate, but you're beginning to really worry me." At this point you're surrounded by the fallen petals of over a dozen flowers and at the sound of your best friend's voice you flinch and almost manage to tumble off the roof, and would have if Remus, who had apparently accompanied James, hadn't managed to grab hold of you and pull you back. Werewolf reflexes do come in handy.

"I'm okay." You reply defensively either in reply to James' statement or the way Remus is looking at you as though concerned that you're going to tumble off the roof again or something.

Remus sits down on your left, and James on your right. Neither of them respond to your protest about being fine. They probably think it's not worth a response. You don't blame them, you don't believe yourself either.

"Why haven't you open the letter, Sirius?" Remus asks softly after a few minutes of silence.

You shrug vaguely.

"You're afraid, aren't you?" James asks.

"I'm not." You reply. Because you're Sirius Black, damn it, and you're _not_ afraid of anything.

"Prove it." James says challengingly.

You know he's just trying to provoke you into compliance. You aren't dumb enough to fall for it either; honestly does he think you're a first year? Although, you give him points for the attempt.

"I don't have to prove anything." You say.

"Don't you?" Remus asks.

And you know he's not talking about proving that you're not afraid to open the letter. He means that you feel like you have to prove yourself different from your family, that you feel the need to appear strong, and indifferent to them.

"What if they said no?" You ask in a small voice.

"Oh, _Sirius.._." James says and you feel like a little kid.

"No matter what happens we'll be here with you, and you'll get through this." Remus says reassuringly.

"Promise?" You ask even though you know that you probably sound even more like a little kid, but you need them to promise, need your friends to make it okay.

"Promise." Remus says firmly.

"Promise." James echoes solemnly.

You steel what little courage you have and slowly open the envelope in a way that would make Remus at one of his more O.C.D. moments proud. You pull out the folded sheet of parchment within and open it, staring down at the words printed on the paper:

_Dear Mr. Sirius Black,_

_The Pureblood Division of the Department of Wizarding Family Affairs has evaluated your complaint against Orion and Walburga Black, and determined that it is of merit. Mr. and Mrs. Black will be contacted by Ministry representatives within twenty-four hours to inform them of your temporary removal from their custody pending further investigation. You will be allowed to stay with Charlus and Dorea Potter in the meantime. A temporary restraining order has been put in place preventing Mr. and Mrs. Black from coming within two hundred yards of you until this matter is sorted out._

_You will be contacted within forty-eight hours to set up an appointment with a Ministry-approved Mind Healer who will determine your fitness for participation in this trial. It is highly recommended that you obtain an attorney to act as representative for you throughout the trial, the Ministry will appoint one to you if you are unable to afford one. _

_Sincerely,_

_Melanie Futzman, _

_Representative for the Department of Wizarding Family Affairs_

"What does it say?" James demands. Your friends had managed only through valiant effort to refrain from reading over your shoulder.

"They said yes, they actually said yes." You say blinking slowly in shock. "They _believed_ me." You continue as if this were something that should be shocking. And perhaps it was to you.

"Why wouldn't they?" James says, beaming with happiness. "You'll see, Padfoot, in a couple weeks this will all be over, and then you'll be right here living with my family. Just wait." He continues triumphantly.

"I hope so." You say softly passing the note to Remus so that he could read it.

"Let's go tell my parents!" James exclaims tugging you and Remus up. And, for once you let him drag you over to your broomsticks without fuss, and you let yourself get caught up in excitement, let yourself believe at least for tonight that everything will work out. Maybe you'll get lucky for once and it will.

** A/N Review! Update next Sunday.**


	25. Christopher Concludes

**A/N Hello everybody, I am back on time with my updating! Woot! This chapter features Christopher Burke Sirius' attorney against his parents.**

**Thanks to all Reviewers!**

**Dedication: To SWAddict1986 for her review. :)**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

As a rule, Slytherins make the best attorneys. Hufflepuffs lack the ruthlessness, Gryffindors the finesse, and Ravenclaws, while exceedingly smart lack the underhandedness necessary to be a truly excellent lawyer.

The problem with the other houses, you've always thought, is that they are too close-minded. Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs both have clear-cut conceptions of right and wrong that would make them utterly unable to defend a client they did not agree with. The Ravenclaws are open minded to a certain extent, you suppose, but being intellectuals each of them will eventually arrive at an answer they believe to be correct and at that point many of them will be unwilling to admit they could be wrong.

Of course, as a Slytherin, you subscribe to a constantly changing notion of right or wrong as it suits you in the moment. This, perhaps, is what has gotten your house such a bad reputation, but you like to think of it as being a realist, you simply choose the path that is most likely to find long-term success.

You're seeing a new potential client today, a Mr. Sirius Black, of the aristocratic Black family. You, however, are not easily impressed by wealth or bloodlines being descended from a long line of aristocratic purebloods, in fact you're distantly related to this new client.

You've already done some preliminary research which admittedly wasn't very hard considering how well-known the family is, and the fact that the story of Sirius' break from his parents leaked to the papers this morning, it made front page news in the Daily Prophet and you'll be very surprised if the boy manages to get to your office on time through the mass of reporters your sure is sitting on the edge of the Potter property where he is staying.

A knock sounds at your office door at precisely 4:00pm, and in strolls an elegant looking teenager with black hair and gray eyes. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Burke." The teen says extending a hand to you in greeting.

"Sirius, I presume?" You ask shaking the proffered hand.

"Yes." Sirius replies sitting down in the seat in front of your desk when you gesture for him to do so.

"Are you alone, Sirius?"

He seems to ponder this for a few moments as though wondering if you mean it figuratively or literally. "No." He says finally. "My cousin Andromeda came with me, she's waiting outside."

"I see." You reply. "I understand you wish to engage my services, although your letter was somewhat vague as to the exact parameters of your needs...?"

"I'm sure you've seen the papers." Sirius replies.

"Let's pretend I haven't." Like most lawyers you subscribe to the notion 'never ask a question you don't already know the answer to,' surprises are seldom a good thing in a courtroom.

"I am petitioning to be removed from the custody of my parents Orion and Walburga Black." He states calmly although you see something flicker in his eyes disappearing before you can identify the emotion.

"I see." You lean back in your desk chair surveying the teenager. "How old are you, Sirius?"

"Fifteen, almost sixteen." He replies.

Despite the mask he barely manages to hold onto you can see that this teenager is haunted by something, and you have a strong notion that it has to do with his parents.

"You know that your odds of winning are slim." It is a statement not a question; you can see the answer in his demeanor.

"I know." He replies quietly.

"However, you've come to the best." You've never been one for modesty, never seen the point to be honest, you subscribe to the opinion that there's no reason to disguise the truth with false modesty.

"I'm sure I have." You're not sure whether he is being sarcastic or not as his face remains carefully blank, but you don't particularly care either way.

"If anyone can win your case, I can."

"I hope so."

The door to your office opens and your secretary enters with a relatively thick file folder, which she hands to you before leaving the room again. The file contains depositions given by witnesses to the recent events at the Black home, as well as to those events which occurred immediately thereafter, it also contains descriptions of the injuries Sirius had sustained that day as well as those the school nurse had recorded over the years that seemed to have been the result of abuse.

You try not to get to involved with your clients, to avoid getting emotionally involved with their cases. You've never really had a problem before this, but it's hard to read a file about parents inflicting an unforgivable curse as well as various lesser forms of torture both magical and otherwise on their child and not want to see them punished for it. Despite the growing feeling of horror you experience as you read the descriptions your face remains neutral, product of years in a pureblood family of your own.

"Will you take the case?" Sirius asks when you close the file with a decisive flip.

_Will you? _You look at his carefully blank face, you can tell that he is afraid of your answer, you'requite good at reading people, even those who are skilled at hiding their emotions.

"I'll do it."

You have a feeling that you'll live to regret this. The Black family is probably a bigger headache than you want. But when you think about what you read in that file you know that turning him down is really not an option.

"Thank you." He says quietly and pauses for a few moments. "I better be going."

"I'll contact the Ministry and have them send all trial information to me." You say as he stands to leave. "And, Mr. Black?"

"Yeah?" He asks his hand on the doorknob.

"Try not to look so worried."

A ghost of a smile crosses his face. "No promises." He says before disappearing through the doorway.

**A/N I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter, but it was necessary for plot. Review!**


	26. Sirius Suspects

**A/N Hello, everyone, I apologize for the slight lateness of this update, but it was necessarily delayed due to a combination of internet troubles and a need to update stories far more neglected. I have been on a writing storm however, and have updated six or seven stories in the past twenty-four hours, although I am still a day behind on my schedule, meaning that I will have four stories to update tomorrow if I want to catch up. :p**

**Thanks to all Reviewers!**

**Dedication: To ConradKCat for her many reviews. Welcome to the story. :)**

**Disclaimer: I own nada. ;)**

You know today is going to be a bad day the moment you walk into the kitchen and are greeted by a series of disgustingly bright smiles. James' dad is not reading the paper that morning which is strange in and of itself as it is a part of his morning ritual; in fact the paper is nowhere in sight.

Mrs. Potter immediately begins to offer you waffles, toast, pancakes, anything you wanted, she even offers you coffee which goes against the strongly held notions of everyone in your acquaintance.

James attempts to distract you with talk of Quidditch in a very loud voice. Remus suggests that you spend the day planning out prank ideas for next year (which was a red flag if ever you saw one).

You notice that all the curtains are pulled closed over the windows, and no flames burn in the fireplace, despite the fact that the Potters always have a fire going in case someone decides to floo call them.

You smile, albeit somewhat bitterly, and let out a bark of laughter.

They all jump as if scalded.

"I've already seen it you know."

"Seen what?" Remus asks innocently.

"The paper." You clarify.

"What paper?" James replies evasively.

You stare at him incredulously. "Are you serious?"

"No, you are." He says promptly.

At any other time you would have found that highly amusing, not today however.

"I've been awake for hours already. I saw it this morning before you guys woke up." You are usually an early riser, and having been up half the night, unable to fall asleep, plagued with thoughts of the upcoming trial, you woke up even earlier than usual.

"Oh." James replies.

He and Remus exchange a look which clearly says 'the jig is up.' While Mr. and Mrs. Potter decide to enact a strategic retreat leaving you alone with your friends.

"There are reporters out there, aren't there?" You ask eyeing your friends through narrowed gray eyes.

"Er, no." James replies unconvincingly.

You look at him skeptically. "Than why are all the curtains closed? And why is there no fire?"

"We've become vampires." James explains.

"-What?" Of all the explanations James could have come up with you were certainly not expecting _that._

"Yes," He confirms. "The sunlight turns us to dust." He adds with relish.

"Oh, really?" You ask.

Remus meanwhile is banging his head against the tabletop and clearly wishing he wasn't there. You and James both ignore him.

"Uh-huh." James replies.

Instead of continuing the argument you stride over to the curtains and standing carefully to the side and out of sight of the window, pull them open. The room immediately lights up with flashbulbs as the reporters clustered outside attempt to see into the room and hopefully get photos for their stupid stories.

"...fine. As you may or may not have noticed there are a large number of reporters outside." James concedes.

Remus, meanwhile, swiftly strides over the curtains and yanks them closed blocking out the clustered reporters.

"Was that so hard?" You demand. "I'm not going to shatter into a million pieces because the story leaked to the reporters." You bite out.

James and Remus both look away, as that seems to have been exactly what they thought.

"I need to leave. I have an appointment with a lawyer today." You say when neither of them speak again.

"Er, I don't think you're going to be able to get out that way." James said looking over at the closed curtains clearly recalling the blinding surge of flashbulbs that had gone off.

"I wasn't planning to." You reply calmly, far calmer than you felt given that you are filled with anger, and fear, and other emotions you can't fully identify.

"What are you planning then?" Remus asks.

"I'm going to floo to Andromeda's, she's the one who found me the lawyer; she said she'd take me." You say simply.

"Oh. Alright then." James agrees, "I'll get mum to start the fire back up." He continues disappearing from the room in search of his mother. Dorea Potter reenters the room a few minutes later and starts up the fire so that flames dance cheerfully in your vision, far more cheerful than you think anything has the right to be when your life is so miserable.

You grab the floo powder and throw it into the flames; you call out a brief goodbye to your friends and Mrs. Potter, before disappearing from sight. Andromeda meets you as you tumble out of the fireplace. There is a line between her eyebrows, as she looks at you with worry.

"Are you alright, Sirius?" She asks.

"I'm fine."

You could really get sick of people asking you that. In fact you _are_ tired of people asking you whether you are okay. Everyone including you knows that you are definitely not fine, not that you'll admit to it, so you really don't understand why they persist in asking.

She looks skeptical but instead of pressing you further she simply shakes her head and leads the way out of the house. When you get outside the wards surrounding the house, she apparates the two of you to the lawyer's office. There had been talk of taking the Knight Bus, but in light of today's headlines, it went unspoken that you would not like to face any strangers gawking at you.

Andromeda retreats to the waiting room allowing you to enter Christopher Burke's office alone. You enter exactly on time, a feat which is difficult to accomplish in and of itself, as most people either arrive a few minutes too late or too early.

Your meeting with the lawyer is not long, but you find that you like him; a nice trait to have in someone you will be spending quite a bit of time with in the next few weeks, but not wholly necessary.

He is a Slytherin cut from a cloth closer to that of Andromeda and Regulus, than of Bellatrix and your parents. You can tell he is at least mildly arrogant, but arrogance has never really bothered you if the person in question is actually good at what they do. When the secretary enters with your file, and he reads it without giving you a single pitying expression, your respect for him increased ten-fold.

You couldn't stand to have a lawyer who was going to spend the entire trial shooting you sympathetic looks. You need someone capable of storing their emotions and keeping a cool head. That is the only way you will be able to win this trial, you are glad to see that this lawyer fits the bill.

He agrees to take your case after a few moments of indecision, during which your heart hammers in your chest and your throat feels sandpaper dry, despite this you retain an outward appearance of calm.

You speak for a few minutes longer before retreating from the room his last remark echoing in your head.

_"Try not to look so worried."_

You find it rather hard not to worry when your entire fate is literally resting on the outcome of the next few weeks, but you accept the remark in the spirit with which it was given.

You hope that at the end of it all you will find your worries to have been all for nothing.

**A/N Review, update should be next Sunday. And seeing as how I am FINALLY getting my own laptop (which is a delightful shade of pink), and will no longer be forced to share, I will probs actually update on time. :)**


	27. Andromeda Apprehends

**A/N Hello everyone! My laptop came on Friday, and so I am typing this update for you on it. :D**

**Thanks to all Reviewers!**

**Dedication: To ZedPM for her lovely review. :D**

**Disclaimer: I own nada.**

You have always envied Sirius for having the courage to do what you could not do for a very long time, to stand up to your family, to be different.

Of course you eventually got up the courage to stand up to your family, when you ran off to marry Ted Tonks, but it's not the same you think, not the same at all. You had something to run away to. You were also an adult, having graduated from Hogwarts by then.

Sirius is still a kid, no matter how much he denies it; he's still just a kid.

You saw him today; escorted him to the lawyer's office and then back to the Potter home. He had maintained an outward appearance of calm, but you could see the fear in his eyes, you knew how frightened he was, how not ready to face the world.

You had felt angry then, really and truly angry for one of the few times in your life. Angry at your Aunt and Uncle for doing this to him, angry at hundreds of years of Black traditions and Toujours Pur, angry at the bloodthirsty reporters who cared nothing about the young boy they were hounding, who only wanted a story and couldn't care less who they hurt in the process.

You don't think you will ever forget the look on your cousin's face as he stumbled out of your fireplace this morning; he looked so lost, so very, very lost. As quickly as the expression had appeared, it had been gone, tucked away behind an expressionless face.

He's grown up so fast, too fast. You all have, that's what being a Black does to you, bit by bit it sucks away your childhood a little at a time until suddenly it's over.

You remember your own time as a Black, remember it all too well. You remember the struggle to hide your emotions, the quest to be perfect.

Sirius tries to be perfect, you know he does. He acts like a slacker, but he isn't not at all, he is at the top of his class at Hogwarts not that his parents deigned to notice, and you're sure that when his results arrive (and they will be, any day now), he will have achieved OWLs in every class.

You think that his quest for perfection is part of some hidden desire to prove himself, to show his family, _your family_, that he really is good enough, even if they don't think so.

Of course that's exactly the problem, he is far too good for them, too good to be a Black.

Despite this he is a Black, as are you, no matter how far you run, how hard you try, it is impossible to escape…

You can't run from yourself after all.

You hate being a Black, loathe it even. You always did; hated how you would introduce yourself, 'Andromeda Black,' and the person you were speaking to would inevitably fixate on that name, Black, either they would freeze and give you that look, that look of 'oh you're one of_ those_ are you?" ('Those stuck up, pureblood bigots who expect the world to hand them everything,' goes unsaid but you know it's there lingering out of sight at the end of the sentence…) That's not the worst though, not by far, even worse are those who hold your name to be of value, those who either try to ingratiate themselves to you to gain further social standing or else start telling you about some muggle they tormented as though you should be impressed. You're decidedly _not_ impressed.

You're glad to be a Tonks now, if only in name, because at least then you no longer have to hold back a flinch when you introduce yourself.

There is no escape, no absolution; your family will always be a part of you, a part of him. Once a Black, always a Black.

Sirius knows this you think, his friends don't. They don't understand that to be born a Black is to die a Black.

You're grateful Sirius has them just the same. Perhaps they can do for him what Ted has done for you, perhaps they can keep him from teetering off that fragile ledge your family is huddled on, from tipping off into the oceans of insanity and despair.

Wizards in general have a longer life span than their muggle counterparts. Not so in your family. The Blacks have always had notoriously short life spans. They appear on the world's stage for but a short time and then they are gone. You will say this for your family though; they never go out without a bang. Without a burst of fireworks and glory; they are not the type to fizzle and fade away.

This tendency to die young is one more family tradition you could really do without. Of course you've always thought you would outlive them all except perhaps Narcissa. Sirius and Bellatrix are the types to go out in a blaze of glory for their respective causes. They are so alike and yet so similar.

You're not sure about Regulus yet, he remains as always a huge question mark in terms of allegiance but every time you see him you can see that he's thirsting for something beyond being a perfect Black, and you are afraid that this quest may destroy him in the end.

You worry about them all, about Sirius and Regulus, Narcissa and even Bellatrix. You watch as they self-destruct around you, and you feel helpless to put a stop to it all.

You can help Sirius, maybe, if all goes well, if you can help him start over again, get a new life where he doesn't have to face derisive looks just for being a Gryffindor. You don't want him to go out in a blaze of glory, you want to see him grow old, get married, have kids, hell even teach his kids to prank people, you won't complain.

You wish life were simpler. It isn't though. Not by a long shot.

**A/N Review! Update next Sunday**.


	28. Sirius Surmises

**A/N Hello, everyone, sorry about the delay.**

**Thanks to all Reviewers!**

**Dedication: to livin and breathin, I hope your car was successfully repaired.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. :D**

You saw Andromeda today.

Unfortunately.

It's not that you don't adore her, and usually you would have been thrilled to see her, but after being greeted by a newspaper spread about your family and a swarm of paparazzi the last thing you really wanted was to see your cousin.

You hate when she stares at you with those gray eyes of hers and you know, just know that she can tell exactly what you're thinking.

You _really_ hate that.

It's even worse when she doesn't say anything, just keeps shooting you measured glances when she thinks you're not looking, because then you have to wait, and wait, and wait for her to decide to say something.

She's even worse than James' mum, because unlike Dorea Potter, Andromeda was a Black of your generation which means that she had been there all the times your parents had scolded you, hexed you, told you to act more like Regulus.

You _really_ hate that.

You're _Sirius_, not Regulus.

You wish they could see that. That's another part of being a Black the constant, constant competition; sibling against sibling, cousin against cousin; in a non-stop battle to see who will come out on top.

You can't believe you actually thought that was normal at one point, until you got to Hogwarts and met all these other people; none of whom seemed to have internal power struggles in their families excepting the occasional argument over who would take out the trash.

Andromeda knows what that's like, knows about being a Black. She sees through your mask, sees past your slacker image, she knows that you care about your grades, that you care that your family doesn't like you. You really wish she didn't.

Of course you know her too, you know how it secretly hurt her when her parents not only refused to go to her wedding, but also disowned her.

You know how it hurt even more when her sisters didn't come either, because more so even than parents, people have an expectation of their siblings as allies.

You went to her wedding though, to stand in for the rest of the family. Of course when your mother found out about that she locked you in your room for a week. It was worth it, you think, to see Andy smile.

You know how it hurts her when her birthday comes and not a single card arrives from her family (excluding you of course).

You know all of these things. Just like she knows all about your own anxieties and feelings. You know that she probably wishes that you didn't know how she feels. You feel the same way.

Another Black family trait you both share: you hate, hate, hate it when people know your thoughts, when they can pin down your insecurities.

You can't escape being a Black.

But that doesn't mean that you have to _be_ a Black.

You can share their personality traits, and their precious, precious pure blood but that doesn't mean you have to share their beliefs.

Which is better than nothing you suppose.

You're currently holed up in your room with the shade drawn tightly across the windows, and the door shut, you didn't bother to lock it because you knew that it wouldn't stop James or Remus from barging in once they eventually decide they've left you alone with your thoughts for too long.

Which should be occurring soon.

In about five…four…three…two…

"They're here!" Remus declares bursting into the room right on cue.

"Er, what?" You ask, staring at him. He is holding three thick envelopes in his right hand and waving them around.

"Must you sit in the dark all the time, Pads?" James demands lighting up the room as he speaks.

"Well, you did mention something about becoming vampires; I simply wanted to accommodate you." You reply blithely.

James shoots you a dark look. He does not have the chance to venture a comment though because Remus decides to answer your question.

"Our O.W.L. results!" Remus exclaims, shoving an envelope into your hands, and thrusting another towards James.

You glance down at the results that you had hoped would get your parents to consider you worth something; they seem so meaningless now.

You slit open the thick envelope, and to add insult to injury it gives you a paper cut.

Ordinary Wizard Level Results

Pass Grades

Outstanding (O)

Exceeds Expectations (E)

Acceptable (A)

Fail Grades

Poor (P)

Dreadful (D)

Troll (T)

Sirius Orion Black has achieved:

Arithmancy: O

Ancient Runes: O

Astronomy: O

Care of Magical Creatures: O

Charms: O

Defense Against the Dark Arts: O

Herbology: O

History of Magic: O

Muggle Studies: O

Potions: O

Transfiguration: O

You crumple your hands tightly around the letter; you managed straight Outstandings not that it really matters, not that your parents will really care. You worked hard for those results, though you tried to act like a slacker, you studied at least three hours a day from March onward.

No one knows that though, because you wake up far earlier than your friends and did most of your studying before they were awake.

You glance at Remus and James now distantly interested in how they were done. You're sure they both managed to achieve all their OWL's most likely with a majority of Outstandings.

"How did you guys do?" Remus asks. "I got all O's except an E in Potions."

"I did alright." You reply evasively.

"I got OWL's in every class, all O's except an E in Astronomy, and an E in History of Magic, but I loathe that class anyway." James answers with a shrug.

"It's not like OWL's matter anyway." You point out. "What do they really do for us in the end?"

"What's wrong, Padfoot?" James asks.

You don't answer, mostly because there is not enough time in the world to answer that question, and because you aren't really sure how to reply.

"Never mind, what classes are you guys planning to take next year?" You ask skillfully navigating your friends on to a new topic.

"I was planning to drop History of Magic for sure I can't stand that subject." James exclaimed. "Besides with the way Binns teaches it, is there even a History of Magic class beyond fifth year?"

"I do believe there is actually, Binns only requires an Acceptable to continue on, and since it doesn't take much more than making up random Goblin names to achieve that, it is generally the class that those students who did not succeed on many other subjects end up taking." Remus replied.

"I'm still getting rid of it, how about you, Padfoot?"

"Oh, er, yeah definitely." You say having blanked out on the majority of their exchange.

James gives you a strange look but continues talking anyway. "I'll keep Transfiguration for sure, Minnie would be absolutely devastated without me there to brighten her day."

"I'm sure." Remus replies sarcastically rolling his eyes at James.

You find yourself slipping into the easy flow of their banter, momentarily forgetting your problems and more melancholy reflections.

"Please, James, we both know it's me that Minnie would be bereft without." You reply with a scoff.

James and Remus exchange a somewhat surprised and clearly pleased look when you join in the conversation. It makes you feel bad for worrying them so much.

You resolve to make more of an effort at conversation or at least exiting your room more if they're rendered shocked when you speak more than a sentence.

"Minnie is rather fond of you," James admits.

"Like all women." You reply flippantly.

Remus rolls his eyes at you and you find yourself vaguely comforted by the gesture, it feels so familiar and it's the first time in a while that your friends have acted somewhat normal towards you.

"We actually had another reason for coming up here, believe it or not." James informs you.

"What?" You ask warily.

"We were thinking it might be fun to go into Diagon Alley, we could get our books, look at the New Brooms, get some ice cream…" He sends you a side-wards glance as he says this.

Your face freezes abruptly. "Uh," You look at them both and gesture vaguely in the direction of the window.

They seem to catch your meaning immediately, because James hastens to reassure you: "I was thinking you could use my invisibility cloak, or else we could always disguise you."

You ponder this for a few moments in silence, you aren't really interested in leaving James' house, paranoid as you are about running into reporters, or even worse a member of your family, but as you look at your friends' worried expressions you can't help but reluctantly acquiesce.

You only hope that you won't regret this.

**A/N Review!**

**Update next Sunday. **

**I apologize for the delay, this is a really busy week for my family, my sister had move-in day at her college today, my other sister had volleyball try-outs, and my grandpa is having surgery today so needless to say my family and I have been quite busy trying to get a lot of stuff done. This update for example is being written in the hospital waiting room. On the positive side for those who read multiple stories of mine there should be much updating today as I have nothing to do except wait until around six-thirty pm. **


	29. Prongs Prays

**A/N Hello, everyone, huge apologies for the lateness of this, everything has been really crazy lately.**

**Thanks to all Reviewers!**

**Dedication: To Direwolfy, thanks for reviewing. :) They will find out his scores eventually. I have it planned out. Haha. **

**Disclaimer: I own nada.**

You managed to persuade Sirius to leave Potter Manor and go to Diagon Alley with you and Remus; it is your dearest hope currently that you can manage to make it through the day without anything bad occurring that will send Sirius running back to his room and refusing to come out again.

You took the Knight Bus to Diagon Alley, Sirius wore a hat and practically hid behind you and Remus while you paid the fare for the three of you and fended off all attempts at conversation by the conductor. You then ushered Sirius all the way to the third level of the knight bus where few people ever went before anyone had time to do more than glance at him.

"See, Sirius, this isn't so bad, is it?" Remus remarks encouragingly when you're all seated on the third floor which thankfully turns out to be completely empty.

"Not yet." Sirius remarks morosely.

"Now there is that optimistic attitude, I've always admired." You remark sarcastically. He glares at you but the corner of his mouth twitches for a moment as though he is going to smile, so you think it's worth it.

"Diagon Alley," The conductor calls up the stairs and the three of you make your way towards the stairs, you first, then Sirius, then Remus.

You catch sight of a Daily Prophet showing a picture of Walburga, Orion, Sirius and Regulus Black, one of the yearly forced family photographs Sirius was forced to participate in every year. You can see that his smile is fake in the image. You wonder if anyone else can.

You save that thought for another time and hurry Sirius off the bus, desperately hoping he didn't catch sight of the image.

The three of you head through the Leaky Cauldron without stopping to say hello to the innkeeper as you otherwise might have. Remus taps the brick with his wand while you search through your pockets frantically in search of your book list.

"I can't find my book list," You complain.

"I have it," Remus says rolling his eyes at you. "I have yours, too." He says with a nod at Sirius. "I didn't trust the two of you to remember them, being that you never seem to be too concerned with your book lists."

"That's true, enough." You agree with a sideward glance at Sirius who has remained silent throughout this exchange, actually he has been largely silent since you left the house this morning. Hopefully, a few hours in Diagon Alley will improve his mood.

"Where to first?" Remus asks as the three of you stroll down the cobbled streets of Diagon Alley. "Do we want to get books first? Or just look around?"

"Books." Sirius says succinctly glancing worriedly around them as though expecting one or more of his family members to pop up out of nowhere.

The three of you head mostly in silence over to the bookshop; you don't think the three of you have ever been this quiet. Ever.

"Hello, boys come to get your school books?" The proprietor asks when the three of you enter the shop. You see his eyes widen slightly when he spots Sirius, but thankfully he doesn't comment. "Sixth years, right?"

"Er, yeah." You agree for all three of you.

"What classes are you taking?" He inquires.

"I think I'll drop History of Magic and Astronomy, I would drop Care of Magical Creatures but Kettleburn is too awesome for that. But keeping it will cut into my free periods considerably." You complained.

You and Sirius had always been fond of Professor Kettleburn who was renowned as the Professor most often placed on probation by the Hogwarts Board of Governors.

"You still have nine classes with that schedule," Remus pointed out. "Most people take six."

"I'll get rid of Arithmancy, then, I heard it's going to be a double period on Friday mornings, with Double Potions Friday afternoons." You resolve.

Remus rolls his eyes at your decision making. "So, I guess I need books for Ancient Runes, Care of Magical Creatures, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, Muggle Studies, Potions, Transfiguration." You inform the proprietor.

"What about you two?" He says turning to Sirius and Remus.

"I need books for Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, Muggle Studies, Potions, and Transfiguration." Remus answers immediately.

"You're dropping Care of Magical Creatures?" You demand. "I love that class."

"Yes, well, not all of us enjoy shielding our belongings and wondering what Professor Kettleburn will blow up each lesson."

"That's what makes it exciting." You insist. "Right, Sirius?"

Sirius starts at the mention of his name; he has clearly not been paying much attention to the conversation. "Er, yeah." He agrees.

"What classes are you taking?" The storekeeper now turns to Sirius.

"Er, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, Astronomy, Care of Magical Creatures, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, Muggle Studies, Potions, and Transfiguration."

"Sirius, that's ten N.E.W.T. level classes," Remus points out. "The only thing you dropped is History of Magic."

"Yeah, I know." Sirius agrees. "I can't go abandoning my professors; they'll be positively bereft without me. Besides you and James are both quitting Astronomy so someone has to stay in it with Peter, it's his favorite class.

"You don't seem to have a problem abandoning Binns." You counter.

"Yes, well, I'm pretty sure there isn't even an N.E.W.T. level History of Magic class." Sirius replies.

"I thought we established that there is one and it's just made up of people who didn't pass anything else." You answer.

"Oh, I dunno, I wasn't really paying attention." Sirius admits. You and Remus exchange a worried glance.

"Alright, I guess if you want to take all those classes, it's up to you." Remus says doubtfully. "But I don't think you'll have much fun."

"What can be more fun than pranking all my professors?" He replies with false cheer. You begin to wonder if his happiness act is really going to pot or if you were just really, really unobservant prior to this summer.

"So, all three of you will be needing The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Six, Advanced Potion Making, Advanced Rune Translation, A Compendium of Common Curses and their Counter-Actions, Flesh-Eating Trees of the World, and the Guide to Advanced Transfiguration, Quintessence: A Quest, and Advanced Muggle Analysis." The proprietor led them around the shop shoving various books at them as they went along. "You two," He said nodding at you and Sirius. "Will also need Magical Creatures of the World, the unabridged addition."

"And here is a copy of the Advanced Theory of Numerology for each of you." He continues handing over an extremely heavy looking tome to each Sirius and Remus, making you extremely glad that you decided to discontinue with that class. "And you also get 'Exploring the Cosmos: Advanced Astronomy.'" He said piling yet another heavy book into Sirius' arms.

The three of you pay for your books and leave a 'good luck,' called after you by the shopkeeper. You think this was more directed at Sirius than you and Remus. Grateful to have reached your Ordinary Wizard Levels you bewitch your bags full of books to be feather light and continue onward. "Where to next?" You inquire as the three of you walk along.

"Wherever." Sirius answers helpfully.

"Why don't we stop for some ice cream?" Remus suggests obviously hoping that some ice cream and listening to Florean talk would cheer Sirius up.

"Yeah, alright," Sirius replied even brightening a bit, he did like to listen to Florean talk and of course it helped that the man gave him free ice cream all the time.

You and Remus exchange a relieved grin behind Sirius' back; things are finally beginning to look up. You should have known that couldn't last…

**A/N Yes, I am in fact a cruel and evil person who will end a chapter like that. :P **

**Of course the real reason I torment you like this is really more that I prefer to write the action from Sirius' Point of View than anything else.**

**Owever,**

**On a positive note, since it took me so long to update it's practically time for the next chapter already. :P**

**Review and I will update on Sunday.**


	30. Padfoot Prevaricates

**A/N Hello my lovely readers, shockingly I have returned with an update, quite quickly I might add. Of course all your reviews motivated me to do so, but still. :P**

**Thanks to all Reviewers!**

**Dedication: to Bittersweet x for her lovely review and for letting me know that I had slipped out of second person in one spot. I went back and switched it right away so I'm not sure how many of you saw that. :P**

**Disclaimer: Dude, what is even the point of this? Would I EVER kill off Sirius? Obviously not, so I'm obviously not J.K. Rowling, so I obviously own nothing. Duh.**

You should have never listened to Remus and James when they persuaded you to leave Potter Manor. But it was so tempting, so very tempting, it seemed like something the normal Sirius Black would do, the Sirius that everyone thinks they know; that Sirius wouldn't be hiding in his room, he would be out strolling the cobbled streets of Diagon Alley as though he didn't have a care in the world.

You want to be that Sirius.

Or at least you did until you walked headlong into the last person you wanted to see.

"Watch where you're going," The cold female voice bites out before her eyes widen slightly in recognition. "It's _you_."

An 'excuse me' was right on the tip of your tongue before you recognized her. "B-bella," You're ashamed that her presence shocks you enough to make you stumble over her name. Only she's not Bella anymore, because you're not to be considered 'family' in any sense of the word in a short while, not that the two of you were ever close.

"Do you have any idea what kind of shame you have brought on this family, bloodtraitor?" She asks, grabbing you by the front of your robes and jabbing her wand underneath your jaw. "I should just kill you now and save my Aunt and Uncle the shame." She sneers at you.

"Let him go." You distantly hear James demand; it seems he and Remus have snapped out of whatever shock they felt at her appearance.

"Don't address your superiors, bloodtraitor filth," Rodolphus Lestrange, who you had not noticed before this, orders James in a contemptuous tone leveling his wand at James and Remus.

You wonder why no one has broken up the fight yet, probably because they recognize you and don't want to risk upsetting the Noble and Ancient House of Blacks.

"You should have been drowned at birth," Bellatrix continues once she decides that her husband has your friends under control.

"Shut up, you can't talk to him like that," Remus jumps in.

You watch with a sense of detachment as Rodolphus manages to disarm both your friends before they have time to react. Normally, they would have been faster than that, but fixated as they both were on you, they weren't prepared, which is just one more thing for you to feel bad about.

"Silence, halfblood. Stay out of affairs that don't concern you, it will vastly increase your lifespan."

"He's my friend; you better fucking believe it concerns me." Remus snaps, and your eyes widen slightly in shock; you don't think you've ever heard Remus swear prior to this.

"Such crude language, but I'd hardly expect much more from one such as yourself." Bellatrix momentarily pulls her eyes off you to jeer at Remus. "My aunt and uncle were only doing you a favor by trying to beat some sense into you, so that you would realize how led astray you have been, and swear your allegiance to a true leader."

"Shut up, bitch." James exclaims this time.

And, dimly you find yourself wondering why you're allowing your friends to fight this battle instead of fighting Bellatrix yourself, the way you've done your entire life. You feel pathetic.

"I think it's time we teach Sirius' little friends some manners." Bellatrix remarks in a mild tone. "Perhaps Sirius will even learn his lesson and come beg forgiveness of my aunt and uncle." She continues.

"Leave them alone." You say quietly. "They're not part of this."

"I beg to differ, you made them a part of this the moment you abandoned centuries of Black traditions to join that house of Mudbloods, halfblood filth, and bloodtraitor trash that are no better than they ought to be." She tightens her grip on the front of your robes as she speaks. "Are you sorry now, Sirius? Will you be sorry when I kill your little friends right in front of you?"

"I said to leave them alone," You repeat managing to keep your voice from shaking even though inside you are freaking out.

"Perhaps I should just let them go," You are surprised to hear her say. "After all we can hardly expect them to behave any differently, you however are another matter entirely, _you_ are supposed to be the heir to centuries of pureblood tradition and honor."

"The last thing our family can be called is honorable." You spit out feeling a little bit of your usual fire return.

"You are a stain on this family, bloodtraitor," Bellatrix shrieks. "I should kill you now."

"Go ahead." You whisper. "I don't care."

"Sirius," You hear Remus exclaim in a way that is two parts horrified, one part admonishing.

"You're pathetic." Bellatrix murmurs scornfully. "You're hardly even worth my time."

"Release him," You hear a vaguely familiar voice command imperiously from just out of your line of sight. The person moves and you see him. "I see that I should have recommended the judge extend the restraining order beyond Sirius' immediate family." Christopher Burke remarks.

"You've fallen into poor company, Burke." Rodolphus remarks to the lawyer. "What would your family think?"

"That hardly concerns you." Christopher replies coolly. "Now if you would be so good as to return those boys their wands and release Mr. Black I will not be forced to get the aurors down here to do it for you. I hardly think you would want to make a further scene, it's little befitting the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black." He speaks of your family in a tone of derision that only someone who grew up in your world of traditional pureblood families can manage.

Bellatrix scowls but releases you. Rodolphus flings the wands at James and Remus.

"Rest assured, bloodtraitor, we are not done, you are a disgrace to the Black name, and I will see you wiped out if it is the last thing I ever do." She hisses as she retracts her wand.

"Sing a new song, why don't you?" Christopher inquires lazily. Bellatrix spares a last sneer in his direction before she and her husband disappear with an audible pop. "I think I should be getting the three of you home," He continues once your cousin and her husband are gone.

"Pardon my asking, but who exactly are you?" Remus asks.

"Christopher Burke, I'm representing your friend in his case." He extends a hand to Remus and then James in greeting.

"How did you know to show up here?" James inquires curiously.

"My office is right over there." Christopher nods toward a medium-sized building fifty feet or so away. "I happened to glance out the window in time to catch the tail end of your little performance."

You remain silent throughout this exchange too busy dwelling on your encounter with your cousin and her remarks to focus on their conversation.

"Are you alright?" Christopher continues and glances expectantly at you; you visibly start when you realize he is addressing you.

"I'm fine." You mutter.

"Of course you are," If the attorney had been a less mature person you feel sure he would have rolled his eyes at you in disbelief, instead he simply steers all three of you in the direction of his office.

You feel Remus and James staring holes in the back of your head and you really wish they hadn't witnessed your little chat with Bellatrix. You wish a lot of things about the last few weeks hadn't happened, and if wishes were galleons you would have more money than all the vaults in Gringotts.

But you still _really_ wish they hadn't heard that…

**A/N Woot! This is so close to having been updated on the correct date. :P**

**Review!**

**Also, a few of you asked about Lily, and she will come into the story more a little bit later. Court cases usually take months, and Sirius will be back at school before this is resolved, so we will see more of her soon. **


	31. Marianne Meditates

**A/N Hello, everyone, sorry about the lateness. But I have returned with an update for you all. :)**

**Thanks to all Reviewers!**

**Dedication: SWaddict1986 whose review I just really, really liked, lol. :P**

**Disclaimer: I own nada. **

You are meeting with a new client today, Sirius Black, to be precise, and you always are. You have never been one to mince words, you simply call things as you see them, your parents used to disparage your lack of subtlety and tact, which you really always just considered as a nice euphemism for lying. Of course, that was probably why you were a Gryffindor and not a Slytherin or Ravenclaw like the majority of your family.

Of course one cannot live one's entire life surrounded by the most subtle of Hogwarts' houses and not pick up a little something. So, you can be tactful if you so choose, you just in general choose not to. You find that in your line of work people tend to appreciate honesty.

Your new client is to be arriving in a few minutes, you are not entirely sure what to expect considering that this first session is actually a Ministry ordered evaluation, it's always more difficult when the client doesn't necessarily want help.

Of course, given that you specialize in the treatment of abused child and adolescent witches and wizards you are more than used to recalcitrant patients.

The door to your office opens and your assistant is standing there looking at you expectantly. "Sirius Black has arrived."

"Send him in," You request, less than a minute later an elegant looking teenager strolls through the door, you hear him say something to your assistant that has her giggling away, and you can tell by the very way he carries himself that he is one of _those_, the type to hide emotions with a reckless grin and a mischievous attitude, the kind who tries to gloss over any pain they might be feeling. In general, you've found that these patients tend to be more messed up than the ones who spend half of every session sobbing on your couch, because at least they can admit they have a problem and take the steps to solve it.

"Sirius Black, I presume?" You inquire holding out a hand to him in greeting. "I'm Marianne Yaxley; we'll be having a bit of a chat today, if you don't mind,"

You can tell he really does mind. He minds a whole lot; it's there in the way he quickly pulls back his hand after shaking yours, the way his eyes dart around the room never fixing on any one object for very long.

"Now, I assume that you've been informed that this session is serving as a Ministry Evaluation of your ability to be involved in the upcoming trial regarding your parents, if you are found to be unfit the Ministry will likely attempt to settle the matter out of court, as opposed to the more extensive measures associated with a trial." You feel it is best to begin the session by discussing the particulars of your involvement with the Ministry. "I will be reporting on your general state of mind to the Ministry, the particulars of what you choose to confide in me will be kept confidential unless you choose to share them with someone."

He crosses his arms across his chest and gives you a look that just screams 'not bloody likely.' Of course, you can't really blame him for not wanting to share his feelings with anyone after what he has been through. You don't have all the details of course only what he and various other witnesses shared with the ministry representative.

"What do you want to know?" He asks warily after a few moments of silence.

"What do you want to tell me?" You counter, even though you know the answer to this question is very likely 'nothing.'

"We both know the answer to that," Sirius replied in a level voice. "But it seems that my preferred choice is not an option in this particular situation, so why don't you just tell me what it is you want to know, and I can be on my way."

"I can't do that," You reply. "I can't tell you what to say."

He stares silently back at you without replying.

"Why don't you tell me about your family?" You say finally.

It's clear that he can think of a million reasons why not to tell you about his family starting and ending with the fact that he does not like to make himself appear vulnerable. Something that you can sympathize with; Gryffindors value their pride.

"What's to tell? I'm from a very old pureblood family, my mother says we're practically royalty, personally I think all the inbreeding has-" He cuts himself off abruptly and his eyes widen an infinitesimal amount, he probably didn't intend to say that much, in fact you're sure he didn't.

"I understand you have a brother, Regulus, isn't it?" You say when it becomes clear he isn't going to continue further.

"Yeah." He says flatly. Having a conversation with him is like pulling teeth.

"Are you and your brother close?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" Sirius snaps at you. His brother seems to be a tense issue.

"I'm just trying to establish a clear picture of your home life," You explain calmly.

"My family and I don't see eye to eye, end of story, can I go now?"

He has a lot of anger you can tell, he also has a lot of sadness, his face is stony but his gray eyes reveal a turbulent storm of emotions.

"Afraid not," You reply easily. "We still have a lot to talk about. Why is it that you and your family don't see eye to eye?"

"Philosophical differences," He replies airily.

"I can't help you if you won't let me, Sirius."

He shrugs one shoulder slightly in reply.

"I understand from your lawyer that you had a bit of an encounter with your cousin Bellatrix the other day, why don't you tell me about that?"

You have worked with Christopher Burke in the past, he is one of the more prominent lawyers in Wizarding England, and you are among the most prominent mind healers to consult with the Ministry. You have found him to be one of the few with the ability to both truly wish to help their client and also be able to maintain professional detachment.

He scowls briefly at the mention of the events in Diagon Alley but he does answer, which is progress you suppose.

"Bella, Bellatrix, I mean," He starts and then pauses.

You notice that he switched from calling his cousin by a nickname to using her full name.

"She was upset about the shame I've brought our family,"

"Do you think you've brought shame on your family?"

He holds your gaze for a few seconds and then looks away and then so quietly that you weren't even sure that you heard it, he whispers: "Yes."

"I see," You reply making a mental note of his response to be marked down in his file later. You try not to take physical notes in front of your patients, you find that it unnerves them, makes them thing that you're recording everything they say. As a rule, they don't like to be judged.

After all, they judge themselves harder than anyone else ever could. You can tell that Sirius fits into this category, he is the type to find flaws within, rather than blaming a hundred other people for what happened (usually not the one actually responsible though), he is the type to focus all his blame inwards.

"Are we done yet?" He asks quietly and for a moment he lets his mask drop and you can see the raw pain he has been concealing.

You've heard enough for today you think. Enough to know that he is certainly suffering, that he definitely needs help, but you've also learned that he is definitely strong enough to withstand the pain of a trial, he's probably lasted through far worse.

"For now," You reply.

"It's been nice talking to you." He says politely even though both of you know that he thinks the exact opposite and can't wait to flee the room as soon as possible.

"Have a pleasant day," You answer politely. He nods in reply and practically sprints from the room.

You settle down at your desk to make your report to the ministry. You report that Sirius Black has certainly suffered from his home life, but you do believe that he is fit for involvement in the trial, you also recommend weekly therapy sessions for him to help him heel from his experiences.

You know that Sirius won't like it, at least not at first. You also know that despite all his protestations to the contrary he needs to talk to someone, and you know that he isn't the type who can admit their insecurities to a friend. He will appreciate the anonymity of therapy. Once you manage to convince him to open up that is.

It will be a long battle, but one that you think he will benefit from in the end.

**A/N Review! **

**I will be configuring a new update schedule which will be posted on my profile within a few days. I am leaving for college on Saturday which will render me unable to update every story once a week, the new schedule will probably feature each story being updated once every two weeks. Some stories may retain the once a week schedule depending on how much time I have. **


	32. Padfoot's Pretense

**A/N Hello all, huge apologies for the long absence. As it turns out college is really quite hard, and thus it has literally left me with no time to update. However, I am on Christmas Break until the tenth of January, so until then I shall try to do all the updating I can.**

**Thanks to all Reviewers!**

**Dedication: to ConradKCat for all of the amazing reviews! :D I love the use of second person in reviewing, haha. **

**Disclaimer: I own nada. ;)**

It's been several days since the disastrous therapy session, from which you had returned in an even worse mood than you had been previously. For the first day, you had locked yourself up in your room, and refused to say much of anything to the stream of people who attempted to force you out.

The next day, however, you made a decision, you were sick and tired of behaving like a shadow of yourself, and you remembered how much better you felt when you were laughing, and pranking, and flirting, and even if it wasn't always real happiness, at least you didn't have to endure all the staring, and the concerned whispers, and the pity. Anything was better than that.

And so you emerged from your room, and forced Remus and James to play game after game of Exploding Snap with you, and pointedly ignored the way they kept shooting concerned sideways glances at you when they thought you weren't looking.

You played chess with James' mum, who was the only person in the house who offered a real challenge, you suppose skills like subtlety and manipulation that all Blacks are inescapably born with, are cultivated further in Slytherin house.

You try to act like you aren't nervously anticipating the letter from the ministry informing you of whether you were declared fit for the trial or not.

You feel almost as though you are a spectator at an execution (your own), and you're just standing there waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the axe to come down. You're nervous about the silence; you have heard almost nothing from your family apart from the encounter with Bellatrix in Diagon Alley.

You suppose that it is possible that your parents have employed a lawyer, and have been advised to keep silent, but you find it altogether unlikely and downright creepy that there have been no Howlers, no angry letters, and no attempts to break onto the Potter property and drag you back home.

Okay, and maybe you're just being paranoid, but is it actually paranoia if someone is really out to get you?

Patience has never been one of your virtues, and ever since that night, that is what you have had to be, you had to patiently wait for the ministry to make a decision, you're in the process of waiting to hear back from the Mind Healer, and you're just really kind of tired of it.

You hate working for something you think is doomed to failure, because what is the point of enduring all of that suffering for nothing? What is the point of all these legal maneuvers, if at the end of it all you're just going to be ordered back to Number 12 Grimmauld Place.

No one's ever accused you of being an optimist.

You've never really noticed before but being happy is _exhausting_, you don't know how people do it, but whoever said it takes more muscles to smile than to frown, must have taken one too many bludgers to the head. Because, frankly, you can't think of anything more tiring than smiling and laughing and in general just trying to be the Sirius Black that everyone expects.

You're so _tired_.

Sometimes you think that maybe you didn't run far enough away, maybe you should have just kept running away from everyone even your friends, run away, maybe to some foreign unknown place like _America_, maybe then you could just _live_, and you wouldn't have to feel like you're fighting a battle every day.

Of course, then you _wouldn't_ be a Gryffindor. And if you _weren't_ a Gryffindor you wouldn't have these problems in the first place.

Sometimes you wonder what it would be like if you hadn't been a Gryffindor, if you had been a perfect Slytherin, the Black heir that everyone wanted. Would you be the favorite?

Or would you still be frustratingly, eternally, not Black enough?

Sometimes, (but only sometimes), you whisper the truth to yourself, you admit that it hurts, it really fucking hurts to know that your parents don't love you, and that no matter what you do you will _never_ be good enough for them. No matter how many outstanding's you get on your O.W.L.S.

Maybe that's why you've settled for being the disappointing child, the prankster, the Gryffindor, the blood traitor, because you know that no matter how hard you try to act like a Black, your parents would never see it as enough, and maybe because no matter how hard you try to force yourself into the Black mold, something in you resists, because the real Sirius Black, the rebel, the friend, and Gryffindor, refuses to be something he's not.

**A/N Review! I shall try to get another update out before I go back to school. **


	33. Wormtail Wishes

**A/N Hello, all, I apologize for the long gap in updates! But here is an update brought to you by my excitement over pottermore!**

**Thanks to all Reviewers!**

**Dedication: To Bitter Defiance for her lovely review.**

**Disclaimer: I own nada, nada, nada. :)**

You don't really know what you expected to find when you arrived at the Potter house this afternoon. You had been informed of some details of what had gone on in the Black household by Remus and James, and you had also read plenty of largely exaggerated details in the Daily Prophet, but somehow you just couldn't picture Sirius in the way he had been described: quiet, downtrodden, and…afraid.

Sirius Black was never afraid.

Of course now that you've arrived at the Potter Estate for the big birthday party/end of summer bash that the Potters are putting on for him, you can see that the reports of his behavior had not been much exaggerated.

When you arrived James and Remus had to go pry Sirius out of his bedroom, which he was refusing to leave, which you found sort of odd, because Sirius normally loves to be the center of attention.

"Hey, Pete." Sirius mumbles quietly when he comes down the stairs in front of James and Remus who are staring at him like they expect him to turn around and bolt back into the room at any moment.

"Um, hey, Sirius." You reply awkwardly, and you feel kind of bad about that, because you don't mean to act differently toward him, but it's hard to act like nothing is going on, but you know that he won't want to acknowledge that anything is wrong.

He's always been that way. It's pretty much an open secret that his home life is terrible, although you were never sure just how terrible. But he would never directly say anything.

Last year, you had been on the verge of failing potions, and your mother had sent a howler, declaring that you were a shame on the family. You knew your mother loved you, but sometimes, you think she like the rest of your family looked down on you because your father was a muggle.

They'd always tell you that the reason for your lack of strong magical abilities was because of that. You've always wanted to prove them wrong, to be a great wizard and show them that despite your muggle father you are every bit as good.

At the time of this last incident, Sirius was strangely sympathetic, he doesn't always have patience for your academic struggles, but this last time, he took you aside and tutored you in potions every day for three months until you had achieved an Acceptable in potions.

The entire time, he never said a word about his own circumstances, but you could tell sometimes when he comforted you about your family that he was speaking from experience.

"Happy Birthday?" You say to break up the awkward pause in the conversation. It comes out more a question than a statement.

Sirius' lips twist in a bitter mockery of a smile. "That remains to be seen." He says emitting a short burst of bark-like laughter.

You know he is referring to his upcoming emancipation trial, which is set to begin the second week of the school year, which was the earliest date they could manage to get. Initially they had hoped to get the trial over and done with before the year began, but Sirius' parents had employed some delaying tactics, probably because they hoped that once Sirius had returned to school and was within reach of other students from proper families, said students would manage to 'change his mind, through careful persuasion.'

The party is rather a subdued affair despite all of the Potter's best efforts; the list of guests is small, limited to James, his parents, Peter, Remus, Andromeda, Ted, and their little daughter.

It doesn't help matters that everyone, including you, pretty much stares at Sirius like he's a ticking time bomb liable to explode at any moment.

You can't shake the feeling that something terrible is about to happen, but you don't know what it could be.

Sirius is looking more and more uncomfortable the longer the party goes on, and the strangest thing about that is that you are able to tell that he's uncomfortable.

Normally, Sirius has the poker face to beat all poker faces. But ever since you've arrived you've seen an array of emotions that he almost never displays. It seems that his mask is beginning to slip, which worries you, because things have to be pretty bad for Sirius to fail at hiding his feelings.

You hope that the trial passes quickly, because even though no one has said as much, perhaps because they are afraid it will come true if they say it, but Sirius is quietly falling apart at the seams, losing himself a little more every day.

You've never been much for happy endings, but you hope that this story has one.

**A/N review! Next chapter shall be out soon…I have big plans, big angsty plans.**


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